Memories
by Glaurung II
Summary: Memories of Sephiroth's childhood and their implications throughout his life and the story of the original FFVII. Please R&R and I'll be a happy author. No SephAer until 11. Chapter 34 posted! Rating raised to M due to adult themes in chapter 32.
1. 01 Lost child

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the characters of Final Fantasy (Well, I truly wished to own Sephiroth or Vincent… or both… but that's not possible anyway. Too bad). Ania is of my invention, but I inspired on my own mother ^^. I tried to offer a different vision of our favorite silver-haired, leather-clad baddie.

This fanfict has been inspired by the song of Yann Tierson, "Comptine d'un Autre Été". For those who haven't watched the film Amélie, it's in the OST, and it's a wonderful song.

Enjoy!

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

**CHAPTER 1.**

_Come away oh human child_

_To the waters and the wild_

_With a faery hand in hand_

For the world's more full of weeping

_Than he can understand._

**Loreena McKennitt – "Stolen Child".**

XXXXXX-X-XXXXXX

The city of Midgar was busy as always, even at night. The only source of illumination was the neon lights of the many shops and restaurants where people lingered until late night. Nobody noticed the little child who wandered in the street. He was not older than five. His clothes were still intact, but dirty from his day of wandering. His little face was wet with tears and his huge green eyes looked everywhere and everyone, trying to find a familiar face with no success.

He sat down on the pavement at the entrance of an alley, exhausted, afraid and hungry, and began to weep, his little hands rubbing his eyes.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

Ania had had a tiring day. The item shop where she worked at had been crowded the entire day and her boss had to go to the hospital, for her wife had a baby, so all the work was on her today. It was a lucky thing that she wasn't working the next two weeks, for her turn ended that day.

She sighed as she walked down the street on her way home, remembering when she gave birth to little Mark, twenty years ago. He was the most beautiful baby she had ever seen, so much like Andy, her husband. Two months later little Mark died, and the doctors could not tell what disease took her baby. One year latter, Andy died on a terrible car accident, returning home. So Ania was left alone, and never wished to have another family.

Her back was aching and she was exhausted. She needed some aspirin and a good night's rest.

A sound startled her: a child was crying very near. She thought it was a trick of the mind. Some nights she heard that in dreams, probably she dreamed about her own son. But this time it was different; it was too real.

She followed the sound and what she saw make her gasp: there was a little child, no more than five, sitting on the pavement and weeping. He surely was lost and Ania took pity on the little thing. She was astonished how nobody had taken care of him. Besides, it was getting too late, and it was dangerous to wander in the streets alone.

The woman approached the child and kneeled in front of him. It was strange, for his hair was almost white, not normal in a little boy like him.

"Hi, sweetie!" she said with a cheerful tone. "Have you lost your mum? You want me to take you home?"

The child raised his face, and Ania saw two huge green catlike eyes looking at her with a mixture of faint fear and hope.

"My name is Ania," said her with the same tone, trying to ignore how much his eyes disturbed her. Soon pity overcame that feeling; how could someone have left a child so little and so beautiful all by his own? "What is your name?"

But the child did not talk. Maybe he was too afraid to say anything. Ania had no choice.

"Do you want to come with me?" she said, offering her hand. The child said nothing, but he took that hand obediently and got up. Ania took him in her arms and carried him instead of make him walk. Her back ached, but she was an adult, she could bear it.

Ania had a nice small house on Sector 4. She and Andy bought it when they married, and she didn't feel able to move to another place. When they arrived, the child was fast asleep, cradled in her arms.

"_Poor thing,_" thought Ania. She put the child in bed instead of waking him to give him something to eat. "_He is more sleepy than hungry,"_ she thought.

She took the aspirin her back demanded and went to bed.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

Next morning, Ania went to awake the mysterious child, and found him sitting on the bed, looking at everything with his huge green eyes.

"Morning, little one!" she beamed, and saw how he recognized her, for he smiled and repeated with a little voice: "Good morning".

"I see you can talk," said her sitting on the bed. "Tell me, what's your name?"

The child did not answer immediately, as he was trying to remember. Then, with his little voice he said only one word: "Sephiroth".

"That's a beautiful name, Sephiroth," said Ania. "Say, are you hungry?"

The child nodded and leaped from the bed. She was astonished how much energy he had. But, after all, he was a child of five.

"But first of all we must go to the bathroom," said Ania.

"I can go alone, Ania." said the kid with a smile. That almost melted her on the spot.

"All right then. Now go while I make breakfast."

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

Little Sephiroth was strangely calm for a child of five. He was curious, of course, but he could be quiet when asked. Ania felt sorry for to have to return him to his home, but she thought his mother must be very worried about him.

When she asked him about his mother, Sephiroth said: "Mum died when I was born, but they say she's watching over me all the time."

"And, where is your dad?"

Sephiroth became silent and sad and Ania felt guilty for speaking too much. Surely the father wasn't a good man. He could not be, leaving this little angel all by his own.

"Do you want to stay here with me?" said Ania.

Sephiroth seemed not to understand at first, but his little face illuminated suddenly as he accepted and embraced her.

"Thanks, Ania!" said the kid. She felt her eyes watery and had to use her handkerchief before the kid noticed.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

They spent many weeks together. In that time Ania cherished little Sephiroth like he was her own son. She thought he was a gift, so much she loved him.

"He's a good child," Ania used to say, "and he deserves to have someone who loves him and cares for him".

Ania had a piano, and she used to play it every afternoon. The instrument was a present from her father when she married Andy, and her husband loved to hear her playing. And Sephiroth loved it too. The child sat beside her and watched in silence the progress of her fingers, almost caressing the keys. Then he would ask if she would teach him to play. She promised to do it when he grew up some more.

But, alas! One day they came men in blue to take little Sephiroth away.

When they appeared, it was more than clear that the child did not want to go. He ran in panic to his bedroom trying to hide from them.

"What are you going to do to him?" asked an angry Ania to the man who appeared to be the one in charge.

"It's none of your concern, lady," the Turk answered.

"Look, I don't care if you are Turks or not," said Ania folding her arms in that intimidating way that only women of certain age can achieve. "Why does Shinra want to take this child?"

"My lady," said the Turk, more pacifically. "This child is the son of one of our most valuable men. He got lost when someone let the door of his house open."

"Then, why doesn't he come for his son? Why is he sending you? You have scared him, don't you see? He's terrified!"

"Look lady, we have to take him back to his father. It's our duty. Please, collaborate and nobody will get hurt."

Ania knew the Turks were the secret assassins of Shinra. Everybody knew. But this didn't stop her from arguing. She loved Sephiroth, and she feared this day would come, but no so soon, and under this circumstances.

"I will try, but I don't warrantee anything", she said at last.

She feared they could harm her and the child. Besides, she knew there could be a possibility of seeing him again. Ania went to Sephiroth's room. The door was closed and she could hear him crying.

"Sephiroth honey, it's me, Ania," she called before opening the door. She found him sitting on a corner, and clutching his chocobo plush against his chest. He was crying and shaking. That was not a mere tantrum: it was pure terror. When he saw Ania, he ran to her, embracing her broad waist.

"Hush, my boy," said Ania, trying not to cry too. She sat on the bed and lifted and cradled him in her arms, like the first day they met. Sephiroth was giving faints hiccups, but he seemed more serene. "Now tell me, why are you so afraid? Are they bad men?"

Sephiroth did not answer. He was rubbing his eyes with his little fists. Finally he mumbled something, and Ania was able to ear it: "He's bad with me".

"Who is he, honey?" said Ania.

"My dad. He harms me."

"_So it was. Poor child,"_ thought Ania. She didn't dare to ask what kind of harm someone could do to an angel like him. She tucked him against her breast and stroked his silky silver hair. She did not want to give him away, but she did not want to be killed either, and she knew the Turks had made disappear many people.

"Sephiroth, my boy," she said on the verge of tears. "You said you wanted to be very brave, didn't you?"

"To protect you," said the kid.

"Now is the time. You must be brave, honey. Those men want you to go with them. I know you must. I will try to visit you, I promise," she said finally, seeing how the kid's green eyes began to be watery again. But he managed to fight the tears back and nod in response. She kissed his forehead and combed his hair with her fingers, noticing that he hadn't let go his favorite plush. She knew he slept with it. "Maybe your chocobo wants to go with you."

He nodded in silence. Ania tried to hide the fact that she was on the verge of tears. She felt like she was taking him to some chamber of horrors, and she was unable to stop it.

She finally brought him to the Turks. Sephiroth backed away a little when he saw them, but he wanted to be brave. He gave one last glance to Ania when the lead Turk took his hand. She could not help herself and she kneeled and embraced him once more. When they were on the doorstep, Ania remembered something.

"Wait! Please, wait!" she shouted, running for them. She put some sort of pendant around Sephiroth's neck. "This is a lucky charm. Someone very special gave it to me many years ago. And I give it to you now."

Sephiroth touched the charm with a little finger and embraced her. "I love you, Ania".

She hugged him back in silence, tears finally rolling down her cheeks.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

Awwww! Didn't you wish to take little Sephy to your home? (I bet you would, but when he's much older than five, sayyy… twenty-five, perhaps? lol)

R&R please! (and be gentle ;)


	2. 02 Of Reunion and Songs

**Disclaimer:** Again, I don't own any character of Final Fantasy, any of them, much to my dismay. Only Ania is of my invention.

This fanfict has been inspired by the song of Yann Tierson, "Comptine d'un Autre Été".

With that in mind, here's the next chapter.

Enjoy!

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

**CHAPTER 2.**

… _You sang me of some distant past_

_That made my heart beat strong and fast_

_Now I know I'm home at last._

_**Loreena McKennitt – "Shaman Night"**_

XXXXXX-X-XXXXXX

He was standing in front of the shop.

A boy of eleven, thin and a little short for his age, was looking at the doorway, until he finally built up the courage to cross the door.

There was a comfortable atmosphere. Many items lain on shelves and in tables across the room. There were no customers at that hour of the day, so he could ask his questions with no problems.

A woman was behind the counter, but she didn't face him. She was ordering the items on the shelf, and she seemed not to have ear the door opening. She was a bit fat, and maybe she was in her middle fifties, an old woman to the child.

"Excuse me, lady," began the boy "Could you help me, please?"

The woman turned around and looked at him with a smile, and he froze: It was her!

She was stupefied also, and her smile died in her lips. "It cannot be," she whispered.

He had tried to prepare for this moment and he had promised not to cry, but he felt his eyes burning and had to swallow hard.

"Ania…"

With an astonishing speed she was at his side, embracing him and almost lifting him from the floor, while she cried aloud.

"Oh, my Sephiroth!" she said, "I was so worried for you! I tried to visit you, but they won't allow me to come near…!"

"Ania, you're squeezing me" Sephiroth laughed. He could hardly breathe; through he was happy to see her again.

She released her pressure and assessed him with a motherly eye.

"Just look how handsome you have become and how much you have grown! But I'm afraid they don't feed you enough: You're too skinny for your age."

Sephiroth smiled, pleased that she hadn't changed from his faded and clouded memories. He took something from his neck and showed it to her.

"See?" he told her. "I still have your charm. The needles hurt less when I wear it."

"Needles?" said Ania.

"Don't worry," said the boy, still smiling. "I came to see you, to check if you're all right."

But she saw it was not the only reason. She did not push him further; he would reveal his true purposes in time. After all, he was still a little child. But the idea of the needles and the memory of him cowering of terror at the only though of his father were nagging in her mind.

"Also" he carried on, "you promised to teach me to play the piano, remember?"

"Of course I remember, dear. But right now I'm working, and I'm not able to leave the shop unattended. Besides, you have not run away from home, haven't you?"

"I will help you then" said Sephiroth, "and I didn't run away, I came to visit you. I want to stay with you, that's all."

Ania chuckled and embraced him again, but not so hard.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

He was still the good boy she remembered. He helped her to organize the items and welcome the clients. Many of them were startled, for they never had seen the silver haired boy before, but some other remembered the little children Ania rescued from the street and turned out to be the very son of someone very important in Shinra Corp.

Latter, on Ania's home, she served him a generous supper. He was too skinny, as she said.

There was a moment, after he had eaten, when his face grew serious in a way that startled her.

"Ania," he said. "I'm happy that you have not forgotten me."

"And, why should I?"

"They said that you didn't come to see me because you didn't like me. But I knew it was a lie."

The woman smiled at him.

"You are a good boy, my dear, and I would never forget you. But say, why did you talk about needles earlier?"

Sephiroth looked at her in an almost adult way. Then, he began to talk in a low voice.

"My father said it was good for me. But it hurts. They pinch me with needles and put me on cold tables to examine me. Only professor Gast cared when I was very ill from the experiments."

"_That blasted man!"_ tough Ania. She never forgot a man capable of scare a little child to his marrow.

"But professor Gast disappeared," the kid continued. "He told me he would come for me, but he hasn't, and nobody knows where he has gone."

"I'm sorry, dear."

He shook his head and smiled again.

"It's ok, Ania. I knew someday I would see you again. By the way, could you teach me to play the piano?"

Ania was more than willing to him, but she feared that the Turks would come again for him. He told her not to worry, since this time he had announced he was coming to see her.

From that day, he visited Ania frecuently. He would never be a master at the piano, but the woman taught him all the songs she knew. She also told him about herself, and about her family. One day she showed him an old photo which herself, Andy and little Mark, along with a child from the neighborhood.

"Who is this kid?" asked Sephiroth.

"He was Vincent," said Ania with a sight. "He was almost your age in this picture. His father worked for Shinra when they were just manufacturing weapons and her mom died when he was born, so he came here very often. Like you, he loved to play the piano. Poor Vincent," the woman sighed. "He died so young!"

"What happened to him?"

"He was a Turk. They said he had an encounter with a monster while on a mission."

Sephiroth looked at the kid in the photo. Like him, he was very thin too for his age, but with dark locks and red eyes.

"If he was so good, why he became a Turk?"

"Because things change with time," said Ania. "Many years ago Shinra was different, and our world was different. The Turks were only bodyguards of the important people."

The boy nodded, still looking at the picture. It was difficult to think of Shinra as a different thing of what he had ever known.

"Now that you mention it" mused Ania putting the photo next to Sephiroth so she could compare the two faces, "you two are very alike, as if you were brothers"

"Could we be relatives?"asked Sephiroth still looking at the picture.

"I don't know. He may have died almost by the time you were born, at the age of twenty-seven or twenty-eight. Still…"

Sephiroth looked at her. Ania seemed lost in her thoughts. He almost jumped when she began to talk again.

"Still, the way you talk, and the way you frown when you don't like something makes me remember that boy"

He did not understand what she meant and looked at her puzzled. But she only chuckled.

"Don't pay attention at what I say, I'm aging and tend to ramble! Say, why don't you practice a bit with my piano?"

He leaped from the chair and began to play. Ania would be always surprised at how he could have learnt so quickly.

Sephiroth could play almost every song Ania knew, and it was something, but his favorite was a brief one, the one Ania used to play when she was sad. It was a beautiful one, however brief. She said the composer talked about remembrances of a happy summer in his childhood. He would understand the meaning of that in the future, but for now he was only a child, though he knew the meaning of pain and solitude, he had still a child's heart, still full of hope, and hard to shatter.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

End of Chapter two. Please R&R.


	3. 03 Music for the Soul

**Disclaimer:** Again, I don't own any character of Final Fantasy, any of them, much to my dismay (I wish I could own pre-psycho Sephiroth, but no, I cannot. Too bad). Only Ania is of my invention.

This fanfict has been inspired by the song of Yann Tierson, "Comptine d'un Autre Été". This time is Gackt Camui's turn. I came across some romanization and translation from his songs, made by Mina-P on her webpage (thanks, Mina, for your efforts!). The one I use here, _Birdcage_, is only second to my favorite from this singer, which is _Hosi no Suna_, from his album _Crescent_.

**AN:** The notes in this chapter are only personal recommendations. You will know when you read it. Of course, you are free to picture whatever you like ^^.

Well, enough ramble for this time…

Thank you for the reviews. Remember, please make suggestions.

Enjoy!

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

**CHAPTER 3.**

_Inside of the light, I saw my youthful memories_

_They're still too far off for me, filthy as I am now…_

**Gackt Camui – Birdcage.**

XXXXXX-X-XXXXXX

"Say that again!" ordered the thirteen-aged, silver-haired boy, pointing his training sword at the other trainee. "C'mon! You stupid blabbermouth!"

He hated to be insulted.

"C'mon! Take your sword and say that again!"

The other was older than him, and he knew Sephiroth could beat him up without effort. But he had pride, after all. So he unsheathed his sword and prepared himself.

He attacked, but was swiftly defeated.

"Next time you call me _girlish_ I shall cut you into pieces," the angry silver-haired snarled, turning his back to the other in the floor.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

"That's the third incident with your son this month!" exclaimed President Shinra.

"I'm most displeased with his behavior, sir," said Hojo in a compliant way, rubbing his hands, a gesture that the President find quite disturbing in a man like him. "But he is temperamental one, to my dismay. He takes matters of honor very seriously. It was a terrible mistake to let the mother's character surface over mine."

President Shinra laughed aloud.

"You misunderstood me, Hojo! I'm not upset with your kid's behavior. It is perfect for the SOLDIER Project. He's so fierce that I'm sure he will be the optimum subject. But tell me, what kind of honor issues can a thirteen-aged boy have?"

"Well," said the scientist with a shrug. "His features are apparently quite girlish, and wearing his hair at such uncommon length doesn't help either, so the rest of trainees usually taunt him."

Shinra took a moment to ponder that and raised an eyebrow.

"Good. But you should cure him of pernicious _emotions_. Hatred is fine, but you know there are other unnecessary things. The SOLDIER Project needs perfect subjects. You know sentimentalism weakens the man."

"I know, sir."

Hojo made a bow and turned to leave. Shinra never liked that man. He secretly understood the phobia developed by the scientist's subordinates and coworkers, and why they asked for a change of assignment shortly after entering under Hojo's command. But he was the only unethical enough to experiment with humans, after all.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

He clenched his teeth and shut tight his eyes.

The needle went through his skin slowly, more than necessary, as he noticed. Then the liquid entered his body with a burning sensation, raising the hair of the back of his neck.

Mako injections were always unpleasant, and one did never get used to them.

Sephiroth remembered being infused with Mako since he was very little. Hojo said it was to make him stronger, to prevent him from getting ill. And it was true at some point, for he never caught a cold or another illness, but the injections made him feel as if his body boiled with fever for some hours, and he couldn't move from the examination bed during that time.

The needle withdrew, leaving an itching sensation. He already began to feel all his skin turning hypersensitive, a signal of the forthcoming fever.

His had clutched the charm. The little blue sphere felt warm and soothing; it gave him comfort were nothing could do.

"Holding again that thing?" asked Hojo while writing something down in his clipboard.

Sephiroth didn't answer. He wasn't going to give him more to write about. Some other time he could have started to cry or simply remain quiet and cower, not even daring to look at the scientist. But those reactions were being replaced by a rising anger, even after the fever had quit and he felt healthy again.

He _hated_ Hojo.

The boy kept his eyes closed, still holding his precious charm, trying to slow his breathing. He could sense the cold alien liquid slipping though his veins and his muscles begin to tremble and ache. Still, he did not let a moan escape his lips.

"You endure the pain? Interesting."

More scrapping.

"_Go to hell__,"_ he though. It was going to be like this for a long time and, as years passed, he found more difficult to suppress the angry answers that sprung in his mind when Hojo talked to him like that.

And Hojo _always_ talked to him that way.

He felt lucky that he had the swordsmanship lessons. He liked to wield a sword as much as play the piano; they let an opening to his emotions.

If only the other pupils understood him.

In fact, he _wanted_ the other boys to tease him. It gave him an excuse to beat them.

He smiled to himself. The fact he was so good with a sword was due to Hojo himself. Sephiroth always pictured his opponent as that damned man clad in a white robe. That was why he was so merciless, not giving ever a chance to counter.

Of course he never let that feelings surface in front of Hojo. Although he hated that man, he still feared him, for it was buried very deep in his mind the pain he always felt when he was still a baby, though he could not remember intentionally, even if he wanted to. But it was there.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

The first, serene notes sounded fluidly, then began the song itself, melancholic, yet beautiful. His favorite one. He played with his eyes closed, the light of his bedroom turned off. Thankfully, he had an electric piano, so he could play all night wearing his headphones and preventing anyone from poking his or her nose into his room. It didn't sound as Ania's, but it served his purposes.

Now he began another piece, slower than the first, but not less beautiful. It soothed his temper. As the swordsmanship made an escape to his rising anger, the piano gave him the comfort and peace he needed.

Now he felt calmer, so he went with a fast one. The rhythm was pounding like his heart when battling in the training ground, as if the notes themselves were marking the steps of the fighters and the clash of swords.

Sephiroth could be this way all night long, without stopping, repeating the songs he knew one after another. But that night he felt weary, due to the experiments of that day. He stopped playing, unplugged the piano, put out the headphones and went to bed.

Soon he felt asleep. Sephiroth didn't use to remember his dreams, but he often recalled the odd ones. Like the one in which he stood in a cold room, inside a crystal cage, and there were other people outside, watching him, examining him, but he could not discern their faces, not even when they came near his prison.

Other times he dreamt of being shot, and then they injected him something and locked his body into a coffin. But, though he could never move his head to watch his surrounding, he _knew_ that it was not _his_ body.

Also, he used to dream of a cave. The walls where made of blue crystal, which captured the little light that penetrated the place, and reflected it hundreds of times, so the cave looked like it had inner light. Even the little pond glittered, mirroring the starry sky outside. It was beautiful, but he felt sorrow each time he dreamt of it. Even when he did not remember the cave, he could tell he had visited it for the weigh he had inside his chest in the morning.

They were not nightmares, they didn't terrify him, only overwhelmed him with sadness and despair. And he wondered why.

Of course he never told anyone, not even Ania, about his dreams. He thought they were too intimate to share with anybody. And, though they filled him with sadness, he cherished them. Sephiroth knew those places were unknown to him, but he felt them _familiar_ and warm, and as if he should remain there, waiting.

But, waiting for what?

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

End of chapter 3. Hope you liked it.

Sorry if it was short and not very full of content, but I'm planning something and I think it's best to put it into another chapter.

Well, you can see the foreboding dreams here. I need the especial permission of someone in particular to make what I'm planning in future chapters. If he/she says "yes", then I'll have my story almost complete. If not, I'll have to make other things, but the results will be the same, though.

Again, thanks for the nice reviews.


	4. 04 Premonition

**Disclaimer:** Again, I don't own any character of Final Fantasy, any of them, much to my dismay (I wish I could own pre-psycho Sephiroth but no, I cannot. Too bad). Only Ania is of my invention.

This fanfict has been inspired by the song of Yann Tierson, "Comptine d'un Autre Été".

Again, thank you for the reviews.

Enjoy!

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

**CHAPTER ****4.**

_Oh my heart be strong_

_And guide__ me when eyes grow dim…_

**Loreena McKennitt**** – Breaking the Silence.**

XXXXXX-X-XXXXXX

"I know, Ania," he replied at the phone. "I'm sorry."

"Don't worry dear," came the voice of the old woman. "I know how Shinra is. I can understand it."

"Still I'm sorry. I wanted to see you."

"Me too. How much time has passed?"

"A whole year," he said sadly, remembering the hard training and the reclusion in Junon during that time. Although they were now in Midgar, they were not allowed to go out of the building yet.

"Well, now! You must have grown a lot. Even your voice has changed! I'm sure you are by now the most handsome cadet in Midgar."

"Ania! Don't say that!" he tried to be serious, but could not prevent an embarrassed chuckle. He felt he was growing red.

At the other side, he heard her laugh. Strange, she sounded older than he remembered.

"Are you all right?" he asked, ignoring her cheerful tone.

"Of course I am! Now, get back to your duties, dear, and be a good boy. We will see next week, then. I promise I will prepare something special for you."

"Thanks, Ania," he said, thinking quickly in something to say. He didn't want to hang.

"Bye, my boy, and be good."

"I'll be. Bye."

She hanged the phone.

Why he felt so empty all of a sudden?

The year in Junon hadn't been so bad, after all. Sephiroth had learned many things, his stature had increased at last (now he was above the average) and his strength had improved. He was the skinny little boy no more.

He stared at his phone for a long time. He had kept in touch with Ania during that long year. Each time he talked with her it seemed like she was aging day by day.

Sephiroth never asked about her age (that was considered a rude thing), but he guessed that she was already old when she rescued him from the street.

He went to his drawers. There was his secret treasure: An old tin box Ania gave him. Inside were photos of both since he was five and stayed in her house for the first time, until last year. Indeed, he had grown a lot, but still kept looking as himself. Many children change their facial features when they reach puberty, but not him. It annoyed sometimes to have such a childish face, with delicate bones and pale soft skin. His companions were right: he looked girlish, especially with those big, almond-shaped green eyes, surrounded by thick, long black eyelashes. But he had observed in Junon that girls seemed to like his facial features, judging by the stares and murmurs he won each time he came near a group of them, and how they giggled and blushed when he saluted them.

Sephiroth sighed. In an hour he had his physical exam with Hojo. He hated the way those appointments made him feel so nervous he could do nothing, save staring at the clock until it was time to head for the labs.

The boy suppressed a smirk. He despised to think of it, but he had to thank Hojo for having tested those hallucinogen drugs on him when he was so little, so he got inside a vehicle and ended in the streets. To this day he couldn't guess how he could do that, but thanks to him he could meet her.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

Ania hung the phone and stared at it.

"How could I do that to you?" she wondered.

Her cough had been mercy enough to let her maintain a normal conversation with Sephiroth. Some other times she was unable to answer his calls. Her lungs were worsening day by day, and the illness was spreading to the rest of her body, making one of her hands tremble and falter.

And there was no cure.

"_If only he __was older,"_ she though. _"But he's still fifteen, no matter how tall he might have become."_

She didn't know how to let Sephiroth know that she was dying. Ania remembered the pain she suffered after Mark and Andy passed away, and didn't want him to suffer the same desperation. They weren't mother and son, but they had found some soothe in the other's company. She was the mother he never had, and he was the son she never could raise.

Frustration filled her, making her cry. It was not fair. She survived to see her child and her husband die. Now she had found something which gave meaning to his life, she had to die too, just to abandon another human being with the same suffering she had long ago.

"_Why do you make this to us?"_

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

He stared through the window.

Sephiroth had his bedroom looking to the North. There he could see the ocean in clear days and, sometimes, one could behold the far North Continent. Sometimes he wondered what lied beyond those coasts.

The Shinra building was the highest of all Midgar, and its centre. There they lived almost the entire staff, though some of them, mostly those with a family, preferred to live in the city.

It was not bad after all. The building was a city inside a city, and one could have covered all the necessities.

Well, not all.

Two days had passed since he last called Ania. He had been so occupied he hadn't time to even think of her, and now he felt guilty.

He remembered how he had to make a story about how busy he was with his studies and his friends. He had to tell her he had friend, since she though he was a normal boy.

The truth was he hadn't.

Sephiroth didn't know how he had reached that point, but he was alone all the time.

They only liked to tease him, but it had stopped once he had demonstrated he was no one to laugh at, and he found himself apart from the rest. It didn't worry him; he knew he was different, and from that difference he felt superior. He never mistreated the others, it was just he was different.

He sighted, as he picked the cell and dialed the number. She did not answer.

"_Strange"_

He felt a foreboding weigh in his stomach.

"_Don't be silly, maybe she's not at home."_

He tried an hour later.

No response.

"_Damn…"_

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

End of chapter 4.

I know most people know what is coming. Yes, it is coming, but maybe not in the way you expect.

Again, thanks for the reviews.


	5. 05 Of Pain and a Broken Heart

**Disclaimer:** Again, I don't own any character of Final Fantasy, any of them, much to my dismay (I wish I could own pre-psycho Sephiroth but no, I cannot. Too bad). Only Ania is of my invention.

This fanfict has been inspired by the song of Yann Tierson, "Comptine d'un Autre Été".

The song _Waiting For You_ does not belong to me. I don't know who composed it, so please excuse me for not putting it. It's one of the vocal themes of Silent Hill 4 – The Room. I included it here because I found just peculiar the similarities between one of the characters of the game and our favorite silver-haired baddie… Oedipus Complex, I'd say ^^;

And, again, thank you for the reviews.

Enjoy!

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

**CHAPTER ****5.**

…_Feels just like I'm falling_

_Is there nothing I can do?_

_I wonder if you hear my calling..._

_**Waiting For You**__** (from the game Silent Hill 4) - Silent Hill Vocal Tracks.**_

XXXXXX-X-XXXXXX

Sneaking down the fire stairs was very easy. In this building everyone used the lifts, for obvious reasons. So he could exit the compound without being noticed.

Once in Sector Four, he felt the weigh in his stomach again, this time it was accompanied by a strange shivering, as if someone had slid ice down his back.

When he arrived at Ania's house, there was only one light on, the one of her bedroom. He knocked in the front door, but no response came. He pounded once more, and heard at last some noise inside.

The door opened, but it was not Ania.

"Oh! It's you, Sephiroth, wasn't it?" said Susan. He had seen her before in the neighborhood. "Ania is inside. She doesn't want to see anybody right now, but I think she will be glad of your visit."

"Is she worse?" asked Sephiroth as he entered. He could not hide the note of fear in his voice, judging by the look in the woman's face.

"Better see it for yourself."

He came into the room. Ania was in bed; she looked older than ever, even her hair had turned partially white. She was shocked to see him there. It was clear she had been hiding she was very ill. Now she looked half embarrassed, half relieved.

"Sephiroth!" half her face was almost paralyzed.

"Why didn't you tell me you were ill?" he said sitting at her bedside and taking her hand. It trembled slightly.

"I didn't want to worry you."

"But, what's happening to you?"

"It's nothing, dear," she tried to look like she was not as bad as she really was.

Sephiroth frowned.

"Don't lie to me, I'm no child already."

Ania was silent for a long moment, staring at him, as if pondering. He noticed how many new creases she had on her face, and the dark circles around her eyes.

"Sephiroth, my dear" she began with a sight, "I'm ill, and I'm dying."

He nodded briefly, biting his lower lip.

"And, I suppose there is no cure, isn't it?" said the boy with a hoarse voice.

She shook her head and began to cry.

"I'm so sorry," she sobbed. "My lungs are very bad, and it has extended to the rest of my body. I wish it could be another way to say goodbye to you, but I fear that I'll go sooner than I must."

Sephiroth embraced her. From this distance he could smell the stench of decay coming from her lungs. She was truly dying. There were so many things he wanted to say, but he wasn't able, so numb was his mind with pain.

"What am I going to do without you?" he was able to ask.

"Keep on living, dear," she said in a sweet tone, stroking his hair. "I know it is painful, but that is the order of life itself. I survived my family to stand alone and help another one who was also alone. Now it is your turn," she separated him a little so she could look in his eyes. "Maybe one day you will be able to help someone to be as happy as you have been."

"But it's not fair," he whispered, lowering his head. "I wish I could go with you."

"You will, eventually, when you have fulfilled your destiny in this life."

That was nonsense. How could she talk about Destiny when she was dying? She once said she would never abandon him. Sephiroth could not understand why life was so unfair, letting us know wonderful people to just simply snatch them away from our side when we have learnt what love is.

"But, what is my destiny?"

"Nobody could tell you. It's up to you to discover it. Maybe mine was to find you and show you what a family is."

He didn't want to cry, but he was too confused and frustrated, and the first tears were rolling down his cheeks without even him noticing it.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

He stayed in the house many days with Susan and Ania, not listening to the angry menaces that Hojo voiced through his cell. He didn't care; Ania was dying, and he was determined to stay by her side until all was over. He felt guilty for not being at her side the past year, and he was determined to make the time she still had the more comfortable he could.

Sephiroth had discovered long ago he didn't need to sleep so much, so he could be at almost a constant vigil, should she needed him. Each night he prayed to whatever force ruled the Planet not to steal her from his side. And he spent the day talking with her, telling all the things he had done at Junon and, sometimes, playing her favorite songs at the piano.

Days crawled, and Ania's health deteriorated greatly. She finally could no longer speak, and lost all movement in the side of her body. The cough was worsening, and sometimes she barely could breathe at all.

The toughest part was to understand her needs, once she was speechless. He did his best, but still it wasn't enough to him. She was dying, and he could not do anything to prevent it.

In the end she lapsed into a coma. He kept talking to her as if she was awake, though he knew she might not be listening at all, but it was worse to be silent, hearing her sickening breathe, and wondering how much she could survive like that.

It hurt him to see her so silent, so pale had turned her face, so hollow her once round cheeks. Sometimes he though he was going to madden and had to avert his watering eyes from her.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

Her death came unexpected, at dawn. She simply stopped breathing and, no matter how many times Sephiroth practiced CPR on her, she passed away peacefully, without a sound.

How much time he spent crying and calling her name, he didn't know. Pain burned inside his chest like hot iron; it felt as if someone were tearing his heart out. He would never see her again, or hear, or talk to her. Though he expected this from the very moment he knew she was ill, still he could not accept it. Something was utterly destroyed, and only he remained to mourn among the ruins of what was their happiness.

Sometime after, they tended Ania's corpse, and buried her with the charm around the neck. Sephiroth could not tell if those moments were real or part of a bad dream. Images showed in a haze, like he was no there, like he were to go to that house in Sector Four and find Ania, gentle and caring Ania. The only mother he had know, the only one who beheld beyond his Mako enhanced abilities and find, not a laboratory specimen, but the child beneath, the human child who hungered for love and attention.

He returned to the Shinra building; if they punished him or not, he could not remember. It did not matter. All seemed an illusion, even the Mako injections. For the first time he could move just after receive them and go directly to his bedroom, where he would only sit in silence, staring into the void.

All had lost its importance, and not even Hojo and his caustic remarks could wake him from his dreamlike silence. He never shown again any emotion in combat and his companions began to truly fear him. It terrified them the blank expression of his green catlike eyes, where there had been so much fury to match their teases, now only a cold stare would meet them, along with a doubled strength and skill.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

Sephiroth stood at the door of his bedroom after having spent all the day in the lab. He wondered why Hojo had to attach him to that machine. His head ached, and he was exhausted.

The door opened with a hiss and he saw a strange device inside. Why on earth he had a piano? He did not remember even liking that kind of music, let alone know how to play it. It should be a mistake, surely, or maybe a practical joke

He opened his drawers, looking for some clothes to change, and saw there was an empty space. It made no sense at all, for he didn't recall having anything stored there. Still, he had the nagging feeling of having lost something important.

He discarded those stupid thoughts, changed his clothes and went to train with his sword.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

"I don't know how you managed to do it, Hojo, but congratulations!" said President Shinra. "They told me that your child is now as emotionless as a machine. It's perfect!"

"Thank you sir, I've done what I could to erase some..." he paused, thinking of an appropriate word, "_Inconvenient_ emotions and memories."

"What have you done to him?" asked the older man, suspicious. "I don't want you to leave him useless."

"I've done nothing," he laughed. "I only took advantage of the situation. He was more vulnerable than ever due to some traumatic experience, and I could suppress them at my choice."

"Why have you waited fifteen years to do that?"

"Because emotions begin to develop at adolescence! Childhood is too early, and adulthood is too late, for they are strongly bound to the subject. It was very helpful that he was prepared by himself, if not, it would have taken months to accomplish my objectives."

Again, it sounded too perfect, even for Hojo.

"Wouldn't he be capable of recovery? I've heard that the brain can heal itself sometimes."

The scientist waved a hand and shook his head.

"That is a very unlikely situation, President," said Hojo with a smirk. "He would need a major shock to pull out them, a very big one. And I don't refer to a mere hit in the head. It would be necessary to _force_ him to feel and no human has the necessary amount of willpower to do it. That would be ludicrous to even think about it."

"I don't want loose ends here, Hojo. This is important for us. Wutai is resented about our Mako reactors and our Materia industrial development. We need to have resources to defend ourselves, and Sephiroth is our most valuable one."

"You must not worry about that, President. Sephiroth will be not only the most powerful Soldier, but the strongest warrior the world have ever known."

Hojo let go one of his giggles. It was the first time Shinra chuckled along with him, instead of shivering in discomfort.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

"Dr. Hojo!" called Reika, one of his subordinates. "We found this in the boy's bedroom," she showed a tin box and opened it: it was full of photos of little Sephiroth and a woman.

The scientist made a snarl.

"Burn that junk."

"But… sir…"

"Burn it," repeated Hojo, marking each word with a threatening underline and curling his superior lip in disgust.

Reika made a quick nod and headed for the crematorium as fast as she could.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

End of chapter, but no of the story.

This was coming and you knew, but I put it in a more realistic perspective.

I know, I know, it may seem cruel to make him behold Ania's illness and her death, but it would have been worse. At least he had the chance to speak to her one last time. Few people have that kind of _luck_, believe me.


	6. 06 Difficult Task

**Disclaimer:** Again, I don't own any character of Final Fantasy, any of them, much to my dismay (I wish I could own pre-psycho Sephiroth but no, I cannot. Too bad). Only Ania is of my invention.

This fanfict has been inspired by the song of Yann Tierson, "Comptine d'un Autre Été".

The inspiration for this chapter came from a song by Loreena McKennit, based upon a poem by William Butler Yeats, "The Two Trees". They represent the light and shadow we have inside our hearts, and how we need to search our inner goodness and avoid evilness. It's striking the way this woman arranges this song. The cello solo always gives me the chills.

And, again, thank you for the reviews, and special thanks to LastTrojanNight, for her ideas, you've saved me!

Enjoy!

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

**CHAPTER 6.**

… _Thy tender eyes grow all unkind:_

_Gaze no more in the bitter glass…_

_**The Two Trees – Loreena McKennit.**_

XXXXXX-X-XXXXXX

She stood in the middle of the flower patch, a half dozen of white lilies in her hands.

It had been five years since she died. Poor old Ania. Aerith remembered how they told about her for the first time, when she and her mom had gone to put flowers on the tomb of Elmyra's husband. They said she was a good natured woman; there was a boy who visited her until he was sent to Junon, since he was training to become a Soldier, and returned just in time to tend her on her deathbed. The girl always wondered who this boy was. She never saw him, for she arrived at Elmyra's home by the time he was away, though they said he had a silver hair, something quite strange for his age, and that he was the son of someone very important at Shinra.

She walked outside the church and headed for the old cemetery, just some meters ahead, where Ania and Elmyra's husband were buried.

Ania's tombstone was simple white, with only her name carved in its surface. Aerith kept it clean and always with fresh flowers, for there was no one who could do it, since Ania had no relatives. Sometimes the girl wondered why that boy never showed up again. For all the things they told of them, he was supposed to have loved Ania, as if they were mother and son.

Maybe being a Soldier was the clue. She had heard that many of them lost contact with their families and friends. A sad thing indeed.

Aerith kneeled in front of the tomb and, joining her hands, prayed to the Planet like her mother had taught her to do. It filled her with sadness the thought of someone forgetting a mother, even if she was a step-mother and not the real one. She sighed, rising from the ground and dusting her dress. It was darkening, time to go home, else her mother would worry.

"Goodbye, Ania," she said. "I'll come soon to see you again."

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

Elmyra watched as Aerith entered the house. Though she was twelve already, she was still the sweet little girl she rescued from the station, always so happy and talkative. But it worried the woman the constant trips of the girl to that abandoned church. Many times she had asked why Aerith kept on coming back, until one day the child guided her to the building. On a cracking on the wooden floor, there was a bed of blooming flowers: lilies of such beauty their seemed not from this world. Their image was enough to bring tears to her eyes. "Flowers, mommy!" Aerith had cried. "I had never seen them before. They are beautiful, aren't they?" But it was dangerous to wander in the slums, so she had to strictly forbid her daughter to go there at dusk.

"I'm home, mum!" Aerith said. By the sad look of her eyes she could tell she has been visiting the cemetery.

"Hello honey, they have been following you today?"

"Nope, I didn't see anybody."

Good. She was starting to feel a bit tired of those Turks chasing her little daughter. She had special abilities, it was true, but she didn't think they were of much use to Shinra, except guiding them to that Promised Land. Just nonsense. She knew they wanted to experiment with her, just as they did with her mother. She remembered how the woman still bled from the many cuts and injuries she had, and shivered thinking about what they could do to a little girl like Aerith.

The knocking at the door woke the woman from her musing. She told Aerith to watch over the cooking while she went to open the door.

She had to suppress a gasp.

A tall and lean man stood at the door frame. He wore the blue suit of the Turks. It wouldn't have been something too disturbing, for she was used to their visits, but the young man was someone she had knew very well.

"Tseng," she gasped. "You are a Turk? How…?"

"It's been a while, Elmyra," said the other. The warmth in his brown eyes hadn't disappeared over the years.

"What are you doing here?" she tried to sound casual, but a foreboding feeling settled in the pit of her stomach.

"I came to see you and…"

"Tseng!"

Aerith ran to embrace him. They used to be friends when the young man lived near them, and had taught her some tricks to hide in the slums when something happened. He chuckled as he bent to meet her. She was still as lovely as he remembered, but she had changed. Her body was now a foretelling of the woman she was going to be, though her face and eyes remained innocent and pure. Like an angel.

"Aerith," Elmyra separated the girl from him. "Dear, Tseng now is a Turk," she concluded as an explanation.

The child half turned to her and he could see the puzzled look in her face. Then, as realization settled, the girl looked at him again, up and down, this time with an expression he had never seen in her.

Disbelief.

"You are of Shinra now?"

"Indeed," he said, never loosing his composed attitude. "They have sent me to talk to you and ask you to come back with us."

Never could he have expected this reaction. She bowed her head, closing her eyes like in pain, to turn and start running to the stairs a moment after, wile she whipped her tears. And never had he felt so disturbed. They had trained him to be cold and collected at any time, but a weight settled in his chest at the sight of Aerith crying, and because of him.

"You've disappointed us," said Elmyra softly. "Now go away, please."

"Elmyra…"

"I know you have orders," cut out the woman. "But you should think about her. She loves you, though she's only a girl. She has been talking about you all the time since you went away. Do you really want to bring her to her mother's assassins?"

"We do not want to harm her. We told you."

"We?" said Elmyra. "Since when did you stop thinking by yourself?"

"Look," his brown eyes glowed with mild anger. "I have orders to bring her peacefully to Shinra."

"You have seen her already. If you and you precious Shinra want to take her it'll have to be by force."

Tseng clenched his teeth and, saying nothing, he turned and left.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

Elmyra opened the door of Aerith's room. The girl was curled in her bed, crying, and she didn't notice her mother until the woman was softly lifting her from the bed so she could cradle her. Never before had she seen her daughter so disturbed. It hurt to see a little girl crying with such grief.

"Why?" she moaned, still trembling and clutching to her dress. "Why he has turned bad? I thought he was my friend."

"I know, dear," said Elmyra, stroking the chestnut curls. Life was far more complicated for a child to comprehend. How to explain that people changed, that things weren't plain white or black?

Aerith kept crying for a long time, as if her tender heart was broken. _"Maybe it is"_ thought Elmyra. Her daughter didn't stop until it was late in the night, and she felt asleep from her exertion.

Looking at her now sleeping daughter, she could not avoid crying for Aerith… and for Tseng. Becoming part of Shinra meant to sell one's soul to the Company, at least it was the impression most people had. She remembered Tseng, always well educated, sincere, and so protective with Aerith, like he was her big brother. Life was indeed complex, and one could not divide people between 'good' and 'evil' so easily. Good people got corrupted and most bad people remained evil. That was the way of things.

It was a hard lesson to learn, and Elmyra lamented that Aerith had to face it so soon.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

He held his head between both hands and leaned on his desk.

This was not supposed to happen. He had clear instructions of bring the girl back to Shinra headquarters, but he couldn't do it. She was only a little girl, for Shiva's sake! And he knew they wanted her for the labs. He couldn't let Hojo harm her. Not her. Her tears had hurt him in a way he couldn't explain, her silent pain on discovering he was now a Turk ringed in his ears more that a thousand wails.

Heavy, slow footsteps woke him. It was Rude, who brought the report concerning the new enlistments for the Turks. He didn't bother on covering his anguish, and took the folder with a sigh. The other Turk never asked questions about private matters, but always listened when other needed someone to hear their problems, and that was something Tseng appreciated.

"How are the new recruits this time?" he asked to his silent companion.

"Average."

Only average. He wondered when they could find someone worthy of complete their group. They were the elite among the Turks, the personal guard of the President, but two of them were not enough. They needed at least three. A photograph took his attention.

"Who is this boy? He's too young, isn't it?"

Tseng handled the personal file to Rude, who looked at it with a blank face before answering.

"He claims to be good pilot, but he's too young to demonstrate it. They have rated him only Average for his lack of experience. Still, his attitude is quite promising."

Tseng looked again at the file: Reno Suzume. His statistics were slightly around the average and he was only fifteen, as one could be seen in the photograph: spiky, unruly, fire colored hair, huge aqua eyes and pale soft skin, and a cocky smirk adorning the youth's face. The boy must be the centre of girls' attention. And a strange glitter in those eyes told him everything he needed to know.

"Call him," he said.

"He's too young," Rude complained.

"We will test his abilities," said Tseng. "I have a hunch about this boy. Something tells me he's indeed good."

Rude said nothing and turned to leave. Before reaching the door, he stopped.

"Don't torture yourself," he said without turning. "As long as we can keep track of her there is no problem."

Tseng sighed when the other left his office, closing the door behind him. Blessed Rude. He always had the perfect composed form of a Turk. Sometimes he wondered why they didn't choose him to be the leader. He could think always more clearly and coldly than himself. Being a Turk was his chance to rise from the slums and be someone important, but he never weighted the price it could carry, and it was beginning to be enough to make him want to resign from it.

"_You will be used to it eventually__,"_ said one of his predecessors. _"You only have to harden your heart. It's our job, and we have to do it."_

But, when Aerith's face came to his mind, he wondered if he was fitted for this.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

**AN 1:** Reno's second name, Suzume, means "sparrow". I just love these birds; they are cute, mischievous and very intelligent, just like our dear Reno. And I also like Jack Sparrow, by the way ;

**AN 2:** The song was meant to reflect Tseng own struggle with duty and emotions. Hear it, its beauty is striking. And I know this song can be applied to many other characters, like Seph or Cloud.

How you see it? I like to picture the Turks as real people, with moral struggles as anyone, not like cold hearted assassins.

Stay tuned for more!


	7. 07 Of Illness and a Heartache

**Disclaimer:** Again, I don't own any character of Final Fantasy, any of them, much to my dismay (I wish I could own pre-psycho Sephiroth all to myself). Only Ania is of my invention.

This fanfict has been inspired by the song of Yann Tierson, "Comptine d'un Autre Été".

And now it's Gackt turn again. _Hoshi mite_ it's a beautiful and sentimental song full of longing. I'm beginning to think I'm turning emo -_-;; And it is translated from Japanese, so hear it in its original version.

Enjoy!

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

**CHAPTER 7.**

_I keep singing that song that you taught me, smiling in the dawn_

_We were counting the tears that returned to the starry sky_

_That night just repeated over and over again_

_Ahh, deeply, deeply even now_

_Yes... I love you_

_**Hoshi Mite - Gackt Camui**_

XXXXXX-X-XXXXXX

Green Mako eyes flew open with alarm.

He felt relieved when he saw he was still in his bedroom and that he was alone. The worst part of having nightmares was that he didn't dare to tell anyone. Moreover, he had dreamed about a strange figure who claimed to be his mother. It made no sense at all, for he had never known her.

Sephiroth rubbed his eyes and yawned. It was still dark outside, and he had a hard day's work ahead, so he laid again in the bed and curled under the covers like a giant cat, throwing an arm over the pillow. HE didn't need to sleep as much as normal people, but it felt nice to be in a place so warm and soft, though he could never admit it, for doing so would have given the impression of him getting soft. He mentally recounted when his next mission would start: in two weeks. During this time he had to continue making the necessary arrangements but, until tomorrow, he had plenty of time to slumber comfortably.

Then it began again.

It was pain, pure and searing, spreading from his chest to his limbs, making him stiffen and clench his teeth. His head throbbed as if it was about to burn, and he muffled a moan against the pillow. This wasn't new. He had been suffering those attacks since he remembered, and they had nothing to do with the Mako in his body. Or it was that Hojo said.

As suddenly as it came, it was gone.

The man felt limp in the mattress, face down and breathing hard. It had lasted a short time, as always, but it invariably left him exhausted. Weakly, he rolled to face the ceiling, his body bathed in cold sweat. He started to tremble as if in fever and pulled the covers upper and tighter, trying to warm himself. Why this happened to him and only to him was something he didn't know. Neither Genesis nor Angeal seemed to have this kind of problems, and all were highly enhanced with Mako, like him.

His fist was in over his chest, as if clutching something. Where did he have learnt that habit he didn't know, but after each attack he found himself in that position and a deep sense of loss and sadness always overcame him.

He whipped his mouth, and found his hand stained with blood. He stared at it, disbelieving. It was worsening, for he had never bleed as a result of those attacks. As much as it disgusted him, he had to visit Hojo and tell him what was happening. On the other hand, it could mean that he would have to stay at the lab more time than the strictly necessary. Sephiroth shivered at the prospect of having the scientist needling, cutting and poking him, just to his own sadistic pleasure. That man could achieve what no enemy in the battlefield could: frighten him to his marrow.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

"Attacks again, you say?"

He nodded, and the scientist wrote something on his clipboard. He hated him, the way he moved, his nasal, slightly high pitched voice, the way he focused the lenses before his heavy lidded eyes, maybe to appreciate things better, maybe to look smarter. The worst of all was his smile, even worse than his fits of anger. And he was smiling to him right now.

Sephiroth was sitting on the examining table, clad only with his underwear. The coldness of the laboratory just a weak breeze compared to the iciness of Hojo's smirk.

"Well, maybe we have to stabilize your Mako levels."

"You said Mako had nothing to do with it," he protested.

"Did I say that?" inquired Hojo grinning again and adjusting his glasses, looking at the clipboard. "Surely you misunderstood me."

"But…"

"I'm never wrong, boy," Hojo hissed menacingly not looking at him. "Never. Do not forget that."

He glared at the white robed man, but the scientist had turned his back to him, typing something at his computer. No matter how powerful he was on combat, and how much he ascended in the military, he would always feel as a helpless child before that man, and he would always render him speechless with only a glare.

Sephiroth went through the usual physic exams concerning arterial pressure, cardiac rhythm, body temperature, cerebral activity and some others. All the parameters were the standard for a member of SOLDIER with his levels of Mako. Hojo left him go at last with the slight promise of a future remedy. That meant that he had no idea of what was happening, but Sephiroth didn't argue. It had no purpose at all, since the scientist was too proud to admit any error or miscalculation.

He entered his apartment and fell lazily on the bed. It was midnight and he hadn't been able even to come near his office. His paperwork would be accumulating and he hated when it happened.

The hell with it.

Sephiroth could never understand how he could stand fighting in the combat field hour after hour without even breathing hard, and when he visited the labs he needed a full night's rest to recover. And why he kept on dreaming of that woman. They said his mother died when he was born, and he didn't believe in ghosts. Concerning his father, he doubted that Hojo could be him. When he was little he used to call him _dad_, but because he was the only paternal figure he ever had. With time he learned that a father could never do to his son what Hojo did to him.

Moreover, why even bother about such trivial issues? He never knew how it felt to love, or to be loved, and considered it a matter for weaklings. And he never felt anything remotely similar to that, not even sexual interest. Sephiroth remembered how the other boys were always talking about the same thing when they reached puberty, about the girls, the dreams, the many magazines they sneaked into the barracks. He had heard those conversations, and even gave a peek at the publications, but nothing made him even bat an eyelid. Neither young men were arousing to him. He was simply not interested in personal relationships.

That's why he hated to depend on someone, and it was worse if that someone was Hojo.

He closed his eyes finally and left sleep to claim him, not even caring if he was going to have nightmares or not.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

He watched her as she entered the old church.

Reno couldn't really understand why his boss was so mad about that girl. She was plain looking at first sight. Maybe there was something more, maybe in her behavior, her speech, or her eyes, that made her different. To the young Turk there was something far more intriguing, and it was what she did inside that building. So he slipped near the stained-glass windows, looking for a broken one to peek inside, careful not to be discovered.

The wooden floor was broken, and in the uncovered soil there were growing flowers. Through the broken ceiling the light of the Sun illuminated that spot, picturing a nearly unreal image. It was something truly amazing, for he had never seen things growing in Midgar. Reno even doubted that the many plants that adorned the hallways in Shinra were real.

Something caught his attention. Aerith seemed to be talking with someone, judging for her nods and attention. The funny thing was that she was alone, utterly alone. Maybe those were the "special gifts" that Hojo had mentioned. He shivered remembering the scientist. It was said that even the fearless General Sephiroth avoided the labs if he could.

Then he saw the girl putting something around her neck, some sort of pendant, and she began tending the flowers. Reno could catch a glimpse when she turned and the sunny rays hit the jewel. It was a tiny blue stone, as brilliant as Materia itself, but too small to be such a thing. He continued watching, enjoying the peaceful scene, so different from the world outside that church. It was indeed soothing.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

Sometimes he felt embarrassed of how easily he tend to forget the purpose of his vigilance. He had been assigned to watch over the girl, and protect her should she ever was needed to, for she was a valuable resource. He smiled inwardly when he remembered how many times he had saved her from the monsters plaguing the slums, without her ever knowing it. It was a bitter irony, to protect with so much care someone who hated you.

That was what he wanted to think, that she hated him. However, Tseng could not forget the last time he visited her house. It had been last week, and he hadn't seen her for almost two years. It was Aerith who opened the door, and the Turk had serious problems to maintain is composed behavior. Before him was a fifteen aged girl, the most beautiful and delicate creature he had ever seen. Her body had grown and changed even more, showing more clearly her feminine features, though her face was still as innocent and pure as ever.

Tseng had done his job, and tried to convince the girl to come with him, but she had refused, as ever. And he was happy to hear those words from her lips. He knew Hojo, and he didn't want that project of a human to lay a hand upon her. However, something disturbed him greatly: he saw sadness and pity in her eyes, instead of the hate he expected to confront. Aerith was too gentle to feel hatred for someone, and that hurt him even more. It was funny how he could endure to see many things which could bring nightmares to a grown man, but he couldn't stand those green eyes staring at him in that way.

Many times he had thought of taking her far away, where Shinra couldn't find them, but that was impossible to achieve, and he had to endure his pain in silence. And many nights he had dreamed about how his life could be if he hadn't joined the Turks. Maybe he would have a normal job, he would be poor and live in the slums, but at least he could have her when she was in age. He had lover Aerith like a brother when she was a child. Now that she was blossoming into a beautiful woman, Tseng found himself thinking of her almost every minute, like now, while he watched through the window of his office. He had no choice but to let others do the vigilance, because it was turning into an excruciating torture for him.

"Yo, boss!"

Only one man in this world could address his superior with those words.

"Reno," he said, turning from his position. The young Turk was standing just before his desk, with his casual behavior and his trademark smile. "Have you done as I said?"

"Yep, the girl is safe in her mom's house. Nothing to report."

"Good," Tseng thought that ended the conversation, but he heard footsteps approaching. "That's all for today, Suzume."

"What's wrong, boss?" Reno was by his side, also watching through the window.

"Nothing is wrong. I'm just tired, that's all."

"Don't tell me you're tired, boss. I've seen merrier men at the torture chamber. Is the girl, isn't it?"

He didn't answer. Was it so evident?

"I know," carried on the redhead, "that you're a serious man. I saw it when we were at Wutai. But since our arrival at Midgar… no, since your visit to that house you're not the same. You're more silent and gloomy."

Tseng turned and went to his chair, sinking in it with a sigh.

"You are still very young and you can't understand this."

"What? That you care for her?" said Reno. Tseng never had heard such seriousness in his voice. "I may be young, but I know things, for example, how a man looks at a woman he wants."

"Don't be ridiculous! She's still a girl."

"But soon she will be a woman, and you like her."

"What are you trying to say, Reno?"

"You are in love with the girl, though you wouldn't dare to lay a finger on her, as long as she's still a child. I know you are a correct man. Maybe one day all this will finish. Who knows?" he said with a slight humorous note. "Maybe Hojo kicks the bucket before he can even see her again."

Tseng chuckled, fully aware of how incorrect was to joke about someone's possible death, though this time it didn't matter much.

"I didn't know you were so perceptive, you keep surprising me."

"That's nothing, boss," said Reno, rubbing his brilliant red spikes. "I was tired of seeing you so gloomy. Besides, I was remembering the little lecture the President gave me when I arrived, about emptying our hearts of all emotions, and all that crap."

"Speak with respect, you're talking about the President," scolded Tseng.

"I know, sorry, but I still don't buy that. I know very well what happens when a man doesn't have good feelings inside him. One turns into a monster, and I don't want it to happen to anyone I know."

The older man chuckled. Behind that laid back appearance there was someone thoughtful and caring. He had made a good choice with him.

"There's something more, boss," Reno said, he seemed not to know how to begin. "I watched Aerith when she was inside that building and, y'know? I saw something quite strange," Tseng nodded and the redhead carried on. "She seemed to be talking with someone. Funny thing was that she was alone, and she had her hands outstretched, like receiving something. It turned to be a pendant, a pretty shining blue thing."

His boss took a moment to say something, crossing his arms and rubbing his chin. "Have you told someone about this?"

"Not a word."

"Good, then do not talk of this again once you cross that door. What's more, I would be grateful if you forgot whatever _strange_ thing you see in the future concerning her."

"Yes, sir."

So her powers were developing. He had the hope that they were only a legend; that, once it was clear that she was only an ordinary girl, Hojo would let her go. But with this, Tseng had to work harder to hide Aerith and pretend that she was still a normal human being, that her Cetran powers weren't still awake.

At least he could protect her. Destiny was not so cruel, after all.

And maybe one day she could forgive him. Maybe.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

End of Chapter 7.

Wow! I couldn't have believed I could reach chapter seven.

I know, now I'm being mean with Tseng, but the original story gives many chances of picturing the Turk as a tormented man, torn between duty and his human emotions. Since I watched Last Order and a bit of Crisis Core my vision of the Turks have changed. Okay, they're not exactly saints, but they're neither demons.

Besides, remember that now Sephiroth is not very interesting in this period. Is not exactly that he has no emotions at all. Hojo only erased the ones concerning Ania, for give and receive love is what makes us humans, and left the ones that only made him feel miserable.

And the song still refers to Tseng.

Stay tuned for more!


	8. 08 Friend

**Disclaimer:** Again, I don't own any character of Final Fantasy, any of them, much to my dismay (I wish I could own pre-psycho Sephiroth all to myself).

This fanfict has been inspired by the song of Yann Tierson, "Comptine d'un Autre Été".

Uh, this time it's not a song, just a melody. Don't say it doesn't make you smile and cry at the same time :').

Enjoy!

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

**CHAPTER 8.**

_**The Price of Freedom (Crisis Core OST) - Takeharu Ishimoto.**_

XXXXXX-X-XXXXXX

They were sitting at the rear of the truck on their way to the Mithil Mines. Zack only stared at the floor, his arms crossed over his chest as he listened silently at Sephiroth´s briefing.

How he had changed over the few months they had shared! The General could remember perfectly the day Angeal introduced them. Zack seemed promising, though a bit childish. He had accomplished many objectives others found impossible at his age. If not for the spiky hairstyle, he would have thought of him as a younger brother of Angeal. But there was something more: his eyes. They were strange, for they glittered with some kind of strange joy.

Innocence.

Yes, innocence, more like the little child he had to leave behind than the man he should be. He had been always bugging around. Not that he was annoying, but Sephiroth considered him a bit hyperactive and overjoyed all the time. Strangely, he tolerated Zack's company better than the presence of anyone else. Maybe it was the fact that the spiked one didn't cower when talked to him; even when he was angry the boy simply found a way to calm him down.

All this had changed drastically since Angeal's death. The glitter in his blue eyes had faded, and even his cocky and radiant smile had transformed into a weak snort. Sephiroth himself had to admit that he missed the older SOLDIER. Over the years he had proven to be a good companion; he could have called him a friend, just as Angeal had called him.

Emotions were something for weaklings, and he was not weak. However, he could not help but to feel uncomfortable with the silence that had installed in his office. Angeal or Genesis would always come to talk to him, seeking advice or giving it. He missed them, that was for sure, though Zack seemed to be worse.

"I miss Angeal too," said Sephiroth after a long silence. Zack lifted his eyes. Was surprise in them? The General looked back at him and continued. "Angeal was a good SOLDIER and a better man, I will miss him."

The brunette nodded and bit his lower lip.

"He said to me that if I wanted to be a hero I would never forget my dreams," he said in a husk voice, looking again at the ground. "But I don't know anymore what my dreams are," he sighed and lifted his blue eyes. "Say, Sephiroth, do you have any dreams?"

That was a complicated question. Did he really have dreams to fulfill? Or, did he just move forward in life, without thinking on what he wanted, just doing what was expected of him?

The General shock his head lightly.

"I do not need them to go on living. I do what I have to do, that's my duty and what others expect of me."

Zack nodded and looked down again. His only wish since he was a boy had been to become a First Class SOLDIER, but when he was finally promoted he wasn't as glad as he would have expected. He couldn't feel happy, since it was Angeal who proposed him to the rank, and now it meant almost nothing for him.

"This mission is quite easy," Sephiroth added, "it's only about killing monsters."

"Then why didn't they send regular troops?"

"Because there is nothing very important to do at the Head Quarter, and I thought you needed to stretch your muscles."

The silver haired man still wondered why he took the annoyance of asking for this mission. What happened to others was not his business, but something nagged in the back of his head when he saw the expression in Zack's eyes. The young man was in pain for the loss of a friend and Sephiroth decided that he didn't like this behavior, so he was trying the most effective way, if not to cheer him up, at least to provide his fury an escaping route.

"Thank you, Sephiroth," said Zack with a faint smile. The older man knew that in that smile was far more gratefulness than in any word he could speak.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

"Ah, that was good!" said Zack as he slew the last one.

Zack had killed almost all the monsters while Sephiroth observed him. The General found curious the display of violence, strength and quickness of the younger SOLDIER. He was indeed letting his fury get out, and aiming it to the critters.

"Feeling better?" Sephiroth asked as he looked around at the scattered carcasses.

"Yup, definitely!" the youth said with a wide grin. He was returning to his former self.

"Good, because we have a long road ahead."

They started their walk towards the truck. They had left the vehicle and the driver outside the dangerous zone, for they didn't want to risk them. It was a warm and clear day; few white cotton clouds passed by against the blue summer sky. Zack suddenly remembered those days when he was just a kid and lived in Gongaga. He used to wander outside the forest near the village, to the surrounding plains, imagining that he was hunting the legendary northern vlakorados. He felt a weigh in his chest suddenly, thinking how much his life and his vision of the world had changed.

"Sephiroth," he said as he walked at his side. "It is true that you have no dreams?"

"As I said, I do not need them."

"I don't believe it."

Sephiroth snorted.

"Think what you like, Fair."

"What do you fight for, then?"

"I fight because they expect me to do it."

"But surely you had any wish when you were a kid," Zack slapped himself mentally, as he realized what he had asked.

"_His past is a touchy subject. You would be wise not to speak or ask him about it__," _Angeal had told him more than once.

But the General didn't seem to be angry. Even walking at his side Zack could not see his face clearly. His silver bangs concealed it partially, except for his mouth, which curled in a smirk.

"I had a dream, indeed," he said. "It was very simple, and I saw it fulfilled in time."

"You wanted to be a SOLDIER, then?"

Sephiroth's smile died quickly, and Zack wondered if he had said something wrong again.

"My only dream consisted on running away from Hojo's laboratory," he said suddenly, looking at him, and smirking slightly at his bewildered expression. "I was raised there. So I hope you will understand why I had such a simple wish."

"I had no idea," Zack muttered. Spending all your childhood around Hojo must have been quite traumatizing. No wonder Sephiroth evaded going to the labs as much as possible.

"Few people know about it," said the General. "Genesis and Angeal were the only ones about my age among them."

"I'm sorry," said Zack.

"Why?"

"Well…" he scratched the back of his head, feeling uncomfortable before the General's apparent lack of empathy. "People who really knows you are the most cherished ones, because you can count on them whenever you need them," such a stupid thing to say to a man like Sephiroth, who seemed to never need anyone

"I see."

Zack looked at him. Damned bangs. With Angeal was very easy to know how he felt, but with this man always concealing his face…

"Why do you need other people?" asked the General.

Zack stopped without thinking, and Sephiroth turned to gaze at him. It wasn't a trick question, he could tell by the man's expression. It was of open curiosity, and the brunette could not help but wonder why someone like him could not know such a thing. Your Army comrades were your family, that's what all cadets learned.

"People help each other," said Zack rubbing his black spikes and resuming his walking, "that's how we survive. And," he added, "we need someone to talk to, or only to be at your side."

The silver haired man fell silent for a while, as if pondering what he had just heard.

"Angeal," he said in a low voice. "He was mi friend."

"I know. He used to talk to me about you," for the first time since the incident, he felt his eyes watering and had to bat his eyelids furiously. "Why he had to die like that?" he asked aloud.

"Every night I ask myself the same," said the General, and the young SOLDIER forgot his tears as he heard that. So Sephiroth had indeed emotions, and he mourned his fallen comrade. "I also wonder who will be the next one."

"Next one?"

The silver haired man sighed heavily and looked at him in the eye. For a mere instant Zack could see how weary he was, until he was capable of mask it again.

"We are puppets," he said. "Though they give us freedom to roam the land, we are their slaves, and have to return to them, sooner or later," as he said the last word, his green eyes laid upon the horizon, staring at the infinite.

"You mean," said Zack, "that if we desert, we would be hunted down like Genesis, isn't it?"

"Exactly. In one grade or another, they own us."

"I never thought of that," murmured Zack. "Cloud is very lucky of being just a regular troop."

"Who is Cloud?"

"Never mind. He is only a friend of mine. He wanted to be in SOLDIER, but failed."

They didn't speak again of it in their journey back to Midgar. Zack wondered how the fiercest and most powerful man of all times could be submitted by a mere company leader. At least he felt that he was not alone in his pain. Sephiroth felt it too, though in his own way. He was not such a bad guy, only a bit cold towards others. No wonder if one remembered he had grown up in the labs.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

He weighed the little flask in his hand. Each night he had to take one single pill. Hojo had promised him that it would prevent future attacks, though he didn't want to tell him what caused them.

It had been months since he began with his medication. His attacks had stopped and he wondered if these facts were indeed related. This night he would not take the medicine, just to see what happened. Maybe it was a stupid thing to do, but if Hojo denied him answers, he would search them on his own.

Sephiroth left the flask on the nigh table and switched off the light. Instead of lying down in the bed, he stood and went to the window. Dark clouds blocked the vision of the night sky. There were times when he could see beyond the wasted plains surrounding the city. Even the coasts of the Northern Continent could be seen in a clear day. He recalled dreaming about going there and exploring new lands. He went eventually, but in a training mission. The snowy weather had all new to him, but not unpleasant. His fellow cadets, on the other hand, had had serious problems, and some of them had bad pneumonia cases.

He frowned at the mental image of him as a young boy looking through the window. He couldn't remember many things from his early years, and all were always clouded and isolated visions, with no apparent relationship between them.

The General sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose in exasperation. He nearly forgot that the next day he would have his weekly visit to the labs, and Hojo could notice if he had taken the medicine. A deep impotence overtook him. Since Angeal's death he had felt a prisoner more than ever. He could not escape, no matter how hard he would try. He was at their mercy.

Over the years he had learnt to be patient, but this patience was turning into something akin to resignation, as he saw how his life was developing. Suddenly he thought of Zack, of how his innocence had crumbled and wondered if there had been a time when he himself was that naïve.

A sudden ring woke him of his reverie. It was his cell. Maybe an emergency occurred and his presence was required. Sephiroth grunted as he picked the phone from the night table to answer it.

"General Sephiroth."

"_Oh! I'm glad you're still awake."_

"Zack? Why are you calling me? Haven't you seen the hour?"

"_Yep. I couldn't sleep, so I was thinking about going out. Are you coming?"_

"What makes you think that I want to go?

"_Well, I hate to be rolling over my bed all night and I imagined you had the same problem. C'mon! I know a good place to have a few drinks."_

Sephiroth didn't want to know how Zack knew of his insomnia problem, but the brunette had a good point. He was likely to be awake the major part of the night, just thinking and moping. Maybe he needed to relax just for once.

"All right" he conceded, "I'm going."

"_Good! I'll be there in five minutes."_

Zack hung and the silver haired man stared at the receiver in disbelief. Not even Angeal had done this. He shrugged and went to the wardrobe to grab a shirt and a pair of jeans. Definitely this boy was as surprising as his mentor told him.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

The two men walked back to the Shinra Building. Midgar was a sleepless city, and the streets were still full of people. The many stores and locals were open, their multicolored neon signs flashing their messages and reflecting on the wet pavement.

"Told you it was a good place," said Zack, walking with his hands behind his head.

Sephiroth only nodded. The bar wasn't bad and the drinks were more than acceptable, that had to recognize.

"I have an idea!" Zack exclaimed; the older man looked at him with an arched eyebrow. "You know, some weeks ago I met a pretty girl. Aw, c'mon!" he said when the silver haired man rolled his eyes. "I'm sure she has a beautiful friend for you."

"I'm not interested," he said dryly.

"Well then, what about a boy?"

The General looked angrily at him, making the young man to nearly jump back.

"I-AM-NOT-GAY!" he hissed.

"Whoa! Sorry, Sephiroth," said Zack, rubbing his dark spikes. "I didn't mean to offend you."

"I'm just not interested," he explained, trying to calm down. "Why people can't understand this?"

As he finished the last sentence, he stuffed his hand on his jeans' pockets and hunched his shoulders, like an upset child. Zack could not suppress a snicker.

"What?" said Sephiroth, though he looked at him less menacingly this time.

"Nothing, I'm sorry," replied the other, resuming his casual posture as they walked. "I only thought you would need some company."

The General said nothing. He had learned to appreciate feminine beauty and had been with women several times. The private encounters had been physically more than satisfactory, though he hadn't been able to feel anything beyond that.

"You won't be saying that things once you stumble upon Mrs. Right. I guarantee you that, when she comes, she'll turn you upside down."

Yes, Zack was returning to his former self. That was for sure.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

End of Chapter 8.

I wanted to show Zack. He's such a nice guy, it's impossible not to like him ^.^. It's a bittersweet chapter, knowing what will happen in the future. And I know Sephiroth is maybe a bit out of character, but he's just a man with major traumas and brainwashing… uh, well maybe he's not that normal after all :p

I'm sorry it took me so long to update it, but I had other projects, and I wanted this chapter to be a nice one. I hope I have done it well.

Uh, I'm sorry if I have disappointed yaoi fans but, though I think that some SxC, SxZ or ZxC are nice, I can't write them, believe me. In my fanfict Sephy and Zack are going to be just friends.

By the way, please check my profile.


	9. 09 Pairing Up

**Disclaimer:** Again, I don't own any character of Final Fantasy, any of them, much to my dismay (I wish I could own pre-psycho Sephiroth all to me, but it cannot be).

This fanfict has been inspired by the song of Yann Tierson, "Comptine d'un Autre Été".

Uh… in this chapter Sephy is given a break. He said he was tired of so much angst (said he was beginning to look like Vincent). So I decided to turn to another branch of the story, the only one which has almost no angst. And, who could be our happy *coughredheadcough* guy?

;3

Enjoy!

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

**CHAPTER 9.**

_I'm losing control, falling by the wayside…_

_**Falling by the Wayside – People in Planes.**_

XXXXXX-X-XXXXXX

Somehow he managed to stand still. Cissnei's well connected blow had hit him right in the chest, nearly sending him to the ground.

"Easy, yo!" he protested. "You aren't supposed to kill me."

"If only a weak hit of a… how did you call me?" she mocked, adopting a thoughtful pose. "Oh, yes: _ sweet little girl_. If someone like me can send you backwards, who's the sissy, then?"

"I was only testing you, yo," said the redhead, rubbing his chest. "_This gonna leave a mark,"_ he thought. "Now it's for real, 'kay?"

Without warning, Reno launched an attack. Being a short woman was quite an advantage and Cissnei dodged it easily. She dropped to the floor and made a scissor attack with her legs, which caused Reno to fall on his back to the tatami. Quickly, she straddled on his stomach and put her delicate fingers on his throat, covering the points that immobilized the foe with a soft press, and could kill it if more force was applied.

Being eagle sprawled in the floor with a pretty girl on top of him was one of his favorite fantasies, but this time he was too upset with the fact that Cissnei had beaten him to pay attention to her charms: the way her tight white top was lifted, due to her movements, exposing her narrow waist, or how her slender arms pressed her little breasts together, how they lifted and dropped, following her heavy breath, or the tiny sweat sparkles that adorned her pale skin.

"I won again!" she chirped. "Now you'll have to do my paperwork this week."

He only glared at her. He cursed his lack of control concerning personal bets, but just the prospect of having someone else doing his tedious paperwork was so alluring he couldn't resist. Now he was charged with double work.

She let out a giggle. Her movement woke Reno from his sullen thoughts. She had retired her fingers from the deadly points, and now her tiny hands rested upon his chest.

"You are growing slow with age," she said, tilting her head to one side.

He was not sure if he heard her saying anything. His initial anger for having lost the bet was slipping away, and being replaced with the realization of who was sitting on his stomach.

Reno gulped. Cissnei was warm from the exercise, and she weighted almost nothing. From his position he could easily flip her to the floor and pin her to the floor. He was heavier and stronger, after all. But for some reason he did nothing save to look at her while those thoughts raced through his mind.

"_Control it. __Control it. Control it. Control it, damnit!"_ he repeated like a psalmody, trying to have some control over his body, so he wouldn't embarrass himself.

Luckily for him she stood at once, still giggling, and offered him a hand to stand up.

"I'm not old, yo!" he said rubbing his red spikes.

"Well, you must recognize I won fairly," Cissnei crossed her arms in her tell-tale bossy attitude.

"Right, right" sighed the redhead. He felt miserable at being defeated by a girl like Cissnei. He could wipe the floor with taller, stronger guys than him, but she was so damnably slippery, he never had a chance against her.

"Oh, don't be so sad, Reno," she said. "You're lucky this week I had less work than normal."

"Then why I have to do it, yo?"

"Because," she strode to him, stopping just a few inches from his face. "You wanted me to do yours, so I paid you back for being such a lazy butt."

"You're so mean," he pouted.

Cissnei grinned happily and trotted to the showers, leaving Reno alone in the training room. There was something in the air that made him feel slightly dozed. Maybe last night he stood awake until too late. He rubbed softly the area where she had been straddling and wondered what the hell was going wrong with him.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

A stack of papers felt in his desk in front of him. Reno lifted his head and met Cissnei's honey eyes.

"A deal's a deal," she said smiling.

Reno's desk was currently full of piles of unfinished paperwork, in contrast with Rude's, who only had a small amount, for the rest had been delivered or filed. The addition of the girl's work shouldn't have been a problem to the dark skinned man, but it was Reno the receiver, so that meant he had to do extra hours.

The redhead sighed and saw her leaving the office. Rude could swear he saw Reno's nostrils dilate as if he was sniffling something but, as usual, he said nothing. Suddenly he remembered to have been talking with Cissnei the other day. They stood at a polite distance, but the man caught the scent of her perfume. He remembered that it was sweet and fresh at the same time. Not that Rude was very fond of perfumes (most of them made him choke), but this one was very pleasant.

A thought crossed his mind as he saw Reno's aqua eyes following Cissnei's small figure leaving the room, and he had to discard it immediately. Reno was too immature yet.

"How am I supposed to do this in time, yo?" the redhead moaned.

"It's only a small extra stack," said Rude, who had almost finished his work.

"But is _her_ stack, yo."

"Next time think before you bet something."

"It's not my fault, yo! She had been boasting she could wipe the floor with me."

"So she did," finished Rune calmly.

Reno sighed and rested his head in the desk: "I couldn't get near her not even once, yo."

"Strange. Usually you are the quick one."

"She's quicker and meaner. Damn her cute face, yo!"

Rude tried to ignore the last statement, but it chained with his previous thoughts. Maybe it was just a coincidence, though he could not suppress a chuckle.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

Sleepiness was overwhelming him. He checked his watch: half past twelve. Lucky he had finished all the reports. Only Cissnei's work was left.

"_That brat__…"_ he thought bitterly as he opened the first folder, clearly forgetting how he was when he first joined the Turks.

It was a mission report and it was complete, so he had nothing to do with it. He picked the next, and it was a finished work too. Maybe Cissnei had mistaken the stacks and the uncompleted one was still in her desk. He snickered, more relaxed. After all the fuss he wouldn't have to do more than his own papers.

His grin died quickly as something caught his eye.

It was a medical inform concerning Cissnei, attached to a mission report. It seemed that she had been badly wounded in the course on one of her last missions, the one right before her two weeks' vacation. The official truth was that Rufus had awarded her with two weeks off. But the reality was that she had been at the hospital. Apparently, she was pursuing some dude in the streets. He was just a normal burglar, but he tried to rob the President's son, so the girl followed him. She caught the man in an alley. He was stronger than her, or luckier. The main fact was that he overwhelmed Cissnei and, if she was now alive, it was thanks to Tseng's arrival, only few seconds later than the girl, and his superior marksmanship. The burglar had been shot between the eyes, and it had been better for him to be death before the Turks could catch him. Trying to rob someone like the President's son was worth of severe punishment, but to attack a Turk in addition could carry a fate worse than death.

Reno read the list of injuries: two broken ribs, a black eye, a dislocated wrist and a deep cut in her belly. Nothing that a doctor couldn't heal. The strange thing was that she had needed psychological treatment _to prevent possible post-traumatic depression_. It made no sense at all; trained Turks could handle torture, both physical and psychological, better than anyone. Except…

Reno shook his head. The attack only lasted few seconds. That man couldn't have the time to beat her and have his way at the same time. His brain was reasoning, but a weight settled in his stomach. He didn't know how infuriated he was until he felt a sudden pain in his knuckles which returned him to reality.

He had jumped off his chair and started pacing back and forth the room, only stopping when he finished reading the reports to punch with all his strength to one of the walls.

The redhead breathed deeply, trying to regain some control. He flexed his injured hand, now numb from the hit. It didn't matter. Cissnei's image slipped into his mind, how little she was, how frail, yet so powerful in combat. He wished to have been there, to shatter every single bone of that scumbag and leave him alive, so the treatment could be repeated during the rest of his miserable life.

Looking at the pile of papers and the reports in his hand, he decided to do the right thing just for once. So he took them and headed to Cissnei's office. With luck, the unfinished ones would be still in her desk and he could swap them.

Breaking into someone else's office wasn't a problem for the redhead. He had even considered breaking into the President's private rooms just for fun. Problem was that he had had no time to approach those dominions. But he had had plenty to break into his comrade's offices, including Tseng's.

He hacked the numberpad and the door opened with a satisfying shish. His hand searched for the light switch and turned the lights on.

Reno froze.

Cissnei was on her desk, as shocked as he was. He saw with apprehension how she clutched a handkerchief in one of her hands, and how her eyes were reddish.

"What are you doing here?" she sounded more surprised than irritated at the intrusion.

"I… uh…" _better to be straight and tell the truth. _"You mistook the piles of work. Gave me a finished one, so I wanted to swap them and get the correct" without any further introduction, he paced inside the room and left the papers on her desk. "Is something wrong, Cissnei?"

She had stood and was now facing the window, so Reno could see only part of her face.

"It's OK," she said. "But the unfinished reports are now in Tseng's office. I delivered them this afternoon."

"You delivered unfinished work?" asked Reno in amazement. Cissnei was famous for her efficiency at work. Mistakes were very rare in her, if she was ever wrong.

"Yes, I did!" she exclaimed, turning to him with such a rage it nearly startled him. "I made many mistakes, one after another! I'm not perfect, didn't you know?" he didn't flinch; only looked at her. There was no mocking in his aqua eyes, no smirk in his face, and she realized of her error. "I… I'm sorry," she muttered, lowering her head.

"It's alright," he said, shrugging and smiling slightly. "Hey," he said when she bit back a sob with no success, "don't cry. Can't stand a chick crying, yo," she turned again to hide her tears. "If it makes you feel better, we can spar again, so you can beat me."

She chuckled faintly.

"You read the report, didn't you?"

"I did. I'm sorry I wasn't there."

"Why?"

"I…" he ruffled his spikes. "I had liked to beat the crap out of that guy, time after time, instead of just shooting him."

"It was my error. I misjudged him."

"I didn't know. Tseng said nothing about it."

"I asked him."

"Why?"

Cissnei didn't face him, so Reno went to her side. Surprisingly, she didn't avert her crying eyes from his scrutiny.

"Ciss," he said softly, "did that guy do something to you?"

She shook her head. "No. He tried to tear my clothes, but Tseng was fast enough to kill him. He used some kind of paralyzing spray on me, so I couldn't move when he stabbed me."

"Then it's not your fault," said Reno."You don't have to be perfect in everything, yo. Just relax a little."

She chuckled a little.

"It's easy for you to say, you were born with it."

It was good to see her smile again. Sometimes she was very bossy and used to tell him off. Still, he could not stand to see her crying or sad.

"You said you gave Tseng your work, right?"

"Yes, but…"

Cissnei could not finish the sentence before Reno disappeared on his way to their boss' office, returning only a minute later, carrying his booty.

"How could you…?"

"No need to worry, Ciss," said proudly the redhead. "I'll finish them for you, as we agreed."

She frowned and crossed her arms, mockingly.

"I better help you out with that. You are a complete disaster sometimes."

He stuck the tongue at her playfully and headed to his office, where she followed him.

They sat on the little couch and began filling the reports. The truth is that Cissnei did all the work, while Reno only watched her. Not that the redhead didn't want to do anything, but the girl lacked the patience to see her companion hesitate and scratch his head, so she grabbed the papers and started writing on them.

He felt drowsy again, and blamed on the hour and the comfortable place he was sitting in. It was good to have her at his side, so near him, so he could linger on her perfume. Those thoughts startled him, for he considered her just a friend. But he remembered how infuriated he was when he believed that something had happened to her, and how he could not stand to see her crying.

"Reno?"

Two honey colored eyed looked at him expectantly.

"Huh? What?" he blushed, realizing he had been staring at her, so lost he was in his thoughts.

"You were falling asleep," she chuckled.

"I wasn't, yo!" he protested, though he rubbed his eyes. "Only was resting my sight."

"Sure. I'm finished."

"Ok then," said Reno, taking all the folders and going to Cissnei's office, and to Tseng's again. When he returned, he stopped abruptly at the door frame.

It only took him a minute to deliver the stacks, but apparently it had been enough for weariness to overwhelm Cissnei.

The redhead smiled at her sight: she had taken her shoes off and laid curled on her side, one arm under her head and the other hand near her face, almost covering her mouth. Her chest moved rhythmically with her soft breath. He chuckled a little: from his position she seemed to be an overgrown baby suckling her thumb.

Reno approached her sleeping form silently and crouched near her. Now he could see how the lines of her face softened, making her appear even younger, almost a little child. But, at the same time, the shadows under her eyes were deeper, betraying several nights of insomnia. He extended one hand and retired a chestnut curl from her pale face. Frail and powerful. And to think he had doubted her at first, saying she was too young and weak.

She stirred and opened her eyes slowly, dazed at first with sleepiness.

"Good morning, princess," whispered Reno, between mocking and playful.

"Reno," said Cissnei, obviously not expecting to wake at the office. She sat and rubbed her eyes. "What time is it?"

"Late. Y'now? You have good taste. This couch is the most comfortable I've ever tried. No wonder you felt asleep, yo."

"You sleep on work hours?" she said, though she was not surprised.

Reno only stuck his tongue again. He sat next to her, just to receive a little poke in the ribs.

"Say, since when you don't get a good night's sleep?" he asked.

"Since… well, you know."

He threw his arm over her shoulders and squeezed her lightly.

"You don't have to keep it inside. You have friends here. Rude is a silent fella, but he always listen. And you have me too."

"Thanks," had she just blushed? "I… I can't sleep well, but it's not that guy's fault. I detest failing, and that day I failed."

"So that's why we never go alone," pointed Reno. "You need to relax. Nobody's perfect, though you're almost."

Cissnei smiled sheepishly and said nothing. Though a competent Turk, she was still a girl. But he liked her that way.

"Want me to accompany you home?"

"Reno, we live in this building, remember?"

"You take away all the fun of life, yo."

But she let him _escort_ her to her apartments' level. At her door, Reno rubbed his crimson spikes, apparently not knowing how to say good night.

"Ciss," he began. "I've thinking… and next Saturday The Vagrants play at The Black Cat. I know the guy who sells the tickets and he could give me good seats…"

He let the last part hang in the air, but Cissnei did not say anything, just smiled and lifted her eyebrows, encouraging him to carry on.

"Would you like to come with me, please?" he blurted out at last, feeling an uncomfortable blush in his face.

"Of course, I'd love to go with you! Thanks and good night, Reno," and, still smiling, she went inside her apartment and closed the door.

When he reached his own home, instead of walking on the marble floor, he had the sensation of having paced over clouds.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

End of Chapter 9.

Just a little intermission, if you like. Maybe Reno is a bit out of character but, well, sometimes the more mischievous, the more kindhearted. And I know Reno can be very tender ;3

And for Cissnei, I know she liked Zack (if only a tiny bit), but I thought about the pairing Reno-Cissnei and squealed: "It's just perfect!" o_O A bossy and motherly personality with a mischievous and laidback one.

At first I was about to write something more friendly *coughbedroomactioncough*, but I think it's more elegant and even romantic just to give the hints of what will happen… and give you guys something to let your imagination fly ;3


	10. 10 Atonement

**Disclaimer:** Again, I don't own any character of Final Fantasy, any of them, much to my dismay (I wish I could own pre-psycho Sephiroth all to me, but it cannot be). Only Ania is of my invention.

This fanfict has been inspired by the song of Yann Tiersen, "Comptine d'un Autre Étè".

Sephiroth is taking a long break. Said he was drained out, so he left for the Caribbean. Whatever.

Enjoy!

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

**CHAPTER ****10.**

_**Comptine d'Un Autre Étè**__** - Yann Tiersen.**_

XXXXXX-X-XXXXXX

Filing and reclassifying old reports was not a pleasant duty, but it had to be done and, since all were labeled as "top secret", only he, as leader of the Turks, had access to them. He usually did it at a high hour in the night, when nobody could see them or lend him a hand, or ask inconvenient questions about certain events. That was truly unlikely, for all the reports he was handling were dated until the years when he was a recruit, and all had been accomplished by his predecessors. Of course, he was not supposed to read them completely, only the titles. Orders were orders.

One by one, he had been forced to conceal many episodes, as was normal to the Turks, but the worst was the Nibelheim Incident: Hojo ordered him to dispose of the villager's corpses and to carry the few survivors to the basements at Shinra's Manor. Among them were those who withstood against Sephiroth. They were still teenagers, but their actions had made them earn to be called "men". One of them was Zack, Aerith's boyfriend. The other, Cloud Strife, a regular troop of only sixteen.

"_It's really necessary?"_ he had asked the scientist. The other only answered with a chilling chuckle, telling him that he was still young to understand many things.

It had been tree years ago, and still he felt a deep pang of remorse. He knew their fate. He knew they would be bearing a suffering like no other at Hojo's hands. As a Turk he had been taught to endure and to administrate all ways of torture, both physical and psychological; but they were meant for criminals, not for innocent villagers and loyal soldiers like Zack and Cloud.

His desk was literally under a mountain of folders. Tseng liked to have a good amount of work, so his mind could be occupied enough to forget. But this time it was especially tedious, due to the nature of the task at hand.

At a certain moment, he stood up to walk around his office, in order to stretch his muscles. His foot tripped with the leg of the desk and a thick folder fell, scattering several reports, graphic and written. He sighed and cursed softly as he knelt to pick them, to stop and gap at one of the photographs. There was a woman at a house's entrance, with a child of no more than five. Tseng had to look twice, to be sure that his eyes and weariness were not playing tricks to his mind: the boy's hair had a distinctive silver hue in it, and only a man had that color.

He finished collecting all the papers and went to the couch, instead of his flooded desk. For a long time he only watched the surrealistic pictures, and how they showed Sephiroth at different stages of his childhood: when he was around five, then they jumped to when he was around ten and from there they were more consecutives. There was no mistake, given the date and looking at the child's features.

Then he went to the large amount of written reports and began to read. First of all was a personal file displaying all the information about the woman:

_Ania Earnhart_:

_Date of birth: XX-XX-XXXX_

_Place of birth: Kalm._

_Place of residence: Midgard, Sector Four._

_Civil state: Married._

_Spouse: Andrew Eanrhart_ **(deceased)**.

_Children__: Mark Earnhart_ **(deceased)**.

_Current job: Shop-assistant._

Then, added with a different calligraphy, a date of thirteen years ago:

_Date of death: XX-XX-XXXX_

No crimes, no suspicious behavior, no connection to any anti-Shinra organization… It was nonsense. All missions were supposed to be related to the Company. Spying on a common citizen was beyond his reach.

He stumbled upon another file, this one revealed an unknown incident with Sephiroth. Apparently, he had suffered at the age of five from a severe episode of delusions due to an overdose of hallucinogens drugs Hojo was experimenting on him. Without anybody noticing it, he ended in the streets and got lost. Mrs. Eanrhart found the kid and fostered him, though for a brief time. After few weeks of active searching the Turks were able to locate the Earnharts' residence and bring the boy back.

This would have ended here, but the boy had built a strong bond with that woman, and from then he always expressed his desire to see her again. Nonetheless, the Turks were given strict orders from Hojo to remain idle.

When Sephiroth turned eleven, he ran away again. This time he was constantly watched by the Turks, and they had founded suspicious that the boy knew it, though he acted as he didn't. As Hojo had predicted, he went to see Mrs. Eanrhart, and that was but the first of many visits through the years, until he was sent for a year to Junon in order to be trained as SOLDIER.

Then, a special operation was developed.

The next report listed all the steps done in order to infiltrate the Earnharts residence at night and inject the subject with a chemical designed by Professor Hojo.

Said chemical was well known by Tseng: It was the "Termite Poison". If administered in a small amount, it only produced mild but persistent pain. And overdose simply dissolved the organic tissue, even making internal organs disappear. For what the scientific inform said, Hojo improved the venom mingling it with some other compound which retarded its effects. The death would prolong from several days to years, depending on the initial health of the subject, the corporal mass and the age.

Ania Earnhart only lasted one year. When Sephiroth returned from Junon he found a dying woman, and only could assist her on the deathbed.

And there it ended the report.

Not for the first time in his life, Tseng mused about how strange life was. Sephiroth could have been a normal man with a normal life, if given the chance.

Hojo had a part in everything, for somehow he had managed to ruin everybody's life. It was more than evident that since the Nibelheim Incident things were not the same.

Cissnei resigned from the Turks and now she was the personal bodyguard of a famous actress. Reno said she was happy with her new life, but Tseng knew it was not entirely true. Shinra had been Cissnei's life until that ill-fated day, when they paid two loyal soldiers' service with a life of tortures.

Aerith believed that Zack only disappeared, and more than once she asked Tseng if he knew where her boyfriend was. Of course he had to deny any knowledge about his whereabouts. Though she seemed to believe him, something in her eyes told that she knew he was hiding something.

What of himself? Several times the memories had pressed him enough to make him drink, just to be able to forget all the things he had been forced to do. His demons grew more and more, and sometimes he wondered if it was some redemption left for someone like him.

Weighting the folder in his hands, he decided to keep it. After all, the Top Secret files were rarely checked, and only the Turks' high ranks had access to them. Not even Hojo could get near without special permission, which had to come from Tseng himself. Maybe it was a useless thing to do, but Tseng wanted it to remind himself of what could have been avoided, if the head of the Turks at that time would have had some humanity.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

End of chapter 10.

Well, if any of you are a Hojo fan, sorry to have done this.

I don't like Hojo and never will. To me is a heartless bastard. OK, without him, there's no Jenova project, Vincent would have lived a happy Turk's life, maybe he would have known Lucretia and married her, maybe Sephiroth would have had many real brothers and sisters, and maybe Aerith could have had a family too. Such a happy world without room for a story, huh? But the facts are the facts, and Hojo is bad, along with Jenova. They're my less favorite characters.

And yes, Hojo was the responsible of Ania's mysterious cancer. If he was capable of killing his project companions (remember Prof Gast's records at Icicle and Lucrecia's remembrances), why he couldn't have ordered the execution of some unknown woman?

Yet again I come back with Tseng angst. While writing this, all the time I had in mind his face in Last Order, so sad for the boys. Mmmmm… He needs a hug!


	11. 11 Encounter

**Disclaimer:** Again, I don't own any character of Final Fantasy, any of them, much to my dismay (I wish I could own pre-psycho Sephiroth all to me, but it cannot be). Only Ania is of my invention.

This fanfict has been inspired by the song of Yann Tiersen, "Comptine d'un Autre Étè".

Enjoy!

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

**CHAPTER ****11.**

_When__ I locked_

_The box of memories,_

_Something broke and scattered._

_**Into The Light (Love Theme for Final Fantasy IV)**__** – FF-Pray **__(Translated from Japanese)_

XXXXXX-X-XXXXXX

She curled inside her crystal cage, burying her face in her arms. Her cheek still burned from the slap she had received before, though her heart ached more.

With the deal they had made, leaving Marlene and her mother go without more trouble, Aerith thought all was solved; but Tseng lost his nerves when they had seen Cloud and the others, and slapped her when she screamed that the child was alright. She had tried not to cry but, as the plate fell down, killing so many people, she couldn't hold the tears back. Tseng had said nothing, and she didn't bother looking at him. She had always considered the man as a friend, even when he joined Shinra. Now she saw that her mother was right, and he was losing his humanity, if not his soul. At least she saw her friends escaping, and hoped they were fine.

She had been raised in the labs, and remembered Hojo. Still his face haunted her nightmares, along with the memory of her real mother bleeding to death at the train station. The monster had laughed at her, saying that she was going to help them to reach the Promised Land, whether she wanted or not.

Aerith couldn't suppress the chocked sobs that escaped her lips. She had always seen the positive side of things, no matter how hard life could be. Now she only saw a black abyss, and she was going to be pushed to fall into it.

One of the doors slid open, and she saw her nemesis enter. Quickly, she whiped her tears. She wasn't going to let him see her broken.

"Good evening, darling," he said, peering at her behind glasses and heavy lidded eyes. Suddenly, she felt terror at being alone with this man. "You have been most elusive, haven't you? But, you see, no one can escape me."

If stares could kill, Hojo would have been dead right there. Although she schooled her eyes to pour hate, their redness didn't escape the scientist's observation.

"You have been crying, haven't you?" he commented, curling his lip in disgust and shaking his head. "Women are such sentimentalist beings. Are you sad for your friends, or are you still remembering your dear mother?" he chuckled. "She was so stupid, escaping right after a surgical intervention."

"You bastard!" she roared, leaping from her sitting position, her hands clenched in anger. Now her tears were of pure rage. "I hope you'll burn into hell, monster, murderer!"

Hojo winced at her scream and went to a nearby computer.

"Why you people have such a tendency to yell all the time?" he said as he pushed the controls at the tactile screen and typed something at the keyboard. Aerith backed away, her eyes wide with terror as a hiss could be heard over her head. "Now you will be quiet for a while."

She smelt something sweet, and the last thing she saw was his horrible smirk before darkness overcame her.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

He remembered to have sworn that he would never return to that place as he felt the coldness of the laboratory, so familiar to him, so well remembered.

Mother had sent him to free the rest of her body. It worried him that she wouldn't be able to travel by herself, but Mother was powerful and could take care of herself. So his only task consisted on infiltrating the Tower, liberate her and get out by separate ways. All was easy to accomplish, and only the last point was left. Sephiroth chose to head upstairs for, at the last floor, a prey waited for him.

As he crossed the lab, he passed near a crystal cell. He had seen such places before, mostly encaging beasts and monsters. Now there was someone inside. He approached, feeling rather curious; though the lights were off, a faint blue glow emanated from the lying form of a young woman. She seemed to sleep, curled in the floor, and her pendant was the source of the pulsing light.

Sephiroth watched her in silence, narrowing his catlike eyes. There was something familiar in that image, something that he should know. A restless discomfort settled on his mind. He knew all too well what it felt to be in a laboratory as a specimen. But it was not his problem. The girl must have been some vagabond unfortunate enough to end up here. They would do horrible things to her and maybe she would die.

It was not his problem. They were humans, low beings. If they wanted to kill each other it was none of his concern. Besides, she might end up death anyway. What if they hasted the process, making his task easier?

Nonetheless, noticing the clipboard resting on a nearby computer, he took it and read the first page:

_Specimen Number: H-F-158._

_Race: Cetran__ (consider as human)._

_Genre: Female._

_Name (only if the subject is human): Gainsborough, Aerith._

_Age: 22._

_Origin Place: __Born in Icicle. Captured in Midgar, Sector Six._

Cetran. The ones who deceived Mother and imprisoned her. He looked at the girl again, then to the rest of the laboratory, to be sure that there was no other there, and to the girl again, greatly disappointed. He always thought of the Cetran as a race of powerful beings, but the girl before him was petite and fragile.

Sephiroth approached the crystal and pressed gloved fingertips on it. The dim glow pulsed as if following the girl's breathing. It was almost hypnotizing.

Mother woke him from his musing. She ordered to take the girl to her presence.

"_But Mother__,"_ he protested, _"she's only a girl, and so fragile."_

"_DO NOT UNDERESTIMATE HER,"_ came her thoughts. _"THIS WOMAN HAS A HIDDEN POWER. SHE'S AN OBSTACLE TO US, BUT COULD BE USEFUL TO ME, FOR I NEED THAT POWER. TAKE HER TO ME."_

"_Yes, Mother."_

She withdrew, leaving that well known daze in his mind. He looked around, searching for the controllers to open the cubicle. Finding none, he tried the computer, but a password was required. He sighed and shrugged. The girl would have a rough awakening, but he was in a rush. Unsheathing Masamune, he raised his arm to break the crystal but stopped, suddenly remembering something.

Each cage had a device to open it manually, in case the power went off and the specimen had to be examined. He sheathed the katana and kneeled beside the door, searching for the little lever. He pressed it and the door opened with a satisfying hiss.

Sephiroth had to cover his nose, so strong was the sweet smell of narcotic gas for his senses. He was totally immune, but it carried awful memories of his childhood, when Hojo used it to put him to sleep when he was being especially difficult.

The pendant had ceased its glowing, and now the faint emergency lights were the only source of clarity. As he crouched beside her, a smirk played on his lips at the thought of this sweet faced girl getting enough on Hojo's nerves to deserve such a punishment. Carefully, he eased his arm under her shoulders and legs, carrying her bridal style. She was surprisingly light, but he could not go to the upper floor with her in those conditions. Surely he would have to fight his way to the President's office, and it was going to be nearly impossible with her still asleep.

He sat resting his back on the wall, and the girl in his lap. He shook her gently and called her name, but only received as an answer a faint frown. She would need to breathe fresh air during hours to wake up, since she hadn't received Mako treatments.

Standing up again, Sephiroth entered the elevator, praying there were no guards waiting for him. He placed the girl on the floor as they arrived at their destination, and prepared to the possible fight.

To his surprise, the floor was deserted.

He picked the slumbering Aerith again and climbed the final stairs, almost savoring the blood of his prey.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

End of Chapter 11.

Finally they met! Though Aerith is a bit sleepy.


	12. 12 Transformation and a New Recruit

**Disclaimer:** Again, I don't own any character of Final Fantasy, any of them, much to my dismay (I wish I could own pre-psycho Sephiroth all to me, but it cannot be). Only Ania is of my invention.

This fanfict has been inspired by the song of Yann Tiersen, "Comptine d'un Autre Étè".

Many thanks to NoBuddy for her helpful and most valuable grammar correction.

Enjoy!

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

**CHAPTER ****12.**

_You waste your time with hate and regret._

_**Frozen – Madonna.**_

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

A moan could be heard from outside the room. If one had been curious enough to peer inside, he could have seen the source of such noise.

A redhead laid on a hospital bed. No sheets were needed to protect him from the cold, for his entire body was wrapped up in bandages and plaster, sparing only his face and one hand. Not even his bright crimson spikes were an exception, and few of them could stick out of the white fabric.

"Don't be such a baby" scolded Cissnei. "You're a Turk, aren't you?"

"Only when I'm on duty, yo. And thanks to that chick now I'm not. I wish I could OUCH!"

He lowered slowly the broken arm he had been wavering while speaking so vehemently. Cissnei hid her mouth behind her hand to prevent a giggle, and her engage ring shone in the artificial light.

"You have to admit she was right."

"Well, seeing what that bomb did, I guess so" suddenly, the redhead's face was tense. "If I'd known what was about to happen, I'd have smacked my own butt."

"You didn't know anything?"

"Of course not, yo!" said Reno, clearly annoyed. "They said us we were going to damage the pillar only a bit, not to bring down a whole section of the city, yo! If only I'd known the explosives had been manipulated…"

"Now you understand why I left the Turks, don't you?"

"I think I have an idea" said Reno wearily. "Gee, baby, that was not my day, yo. On top of that I served as a punching bag for a girl for the second time in my life."

"Well" commented Cissnei, "the first time didn't go so bad."

"Of course not, darling, but if I have to marry every woman that beats me up…"

"You are still in time to change your mind" she mocked.

"Aw, you know I'd never change my mind" Reno said, looking tenderly at her with his aqua eyes, to hiss suddenly, ruining the moment. "Damn it, this plaster itches a lot, yo!"

Cissnei could not prevent an amused smile while watching her fiancé scratching furiously near the itching zone. Since they met they came along quite well; they had kept on touch even after she renounced from the Turks. Casual dates became serious ones, until they finished waking up into each other's arms in his or her bed.

Each time she had asked him how things were going, he would go on a rant about how stupid some missions were, how much paperwork he had on top of his desk or how he managed to stay out of Hojo's sight, just in case, and all with a cheerful attitude, Reno style.

Until last year.

In contrast with his carefree exterior, Reno tended to mind for the ones he esteemed, maybe sometimes he even went overprotective, and adopted their problems. Cissnei had observed how he turned thoughtful and silent from the past few months. And it was after an intensive interrogatory that she learned her lover's object of concern.

He was shocked about how Shinra had treated Zack and Cloud, but not to the point where he would resign from his job. It was something more, and it was that Tseng was growing strange. She recalled him as a warm and friendly man, but now it seemed that something was changing, slowly but deliberately.

When fighting, Reno remembered that Tseng used to bring death as swiftly as possible, no matter who was his foe. In the last missions he had observed how his boss had turned crueler, making each agony as long as possible. Even Rude had had problems witnessing some of the brutal killings. It was not the unnecessary ruthlessness what worried the redhead and his silent companion, though, but their boss' eyes after each killing: usually the rush of adrenaline would make any man's eyes look bloodthirsty; on the contrary, Tseng's were devoid of all emotion. No sorrow, no regret, no cruelty or vicious delight. Nothing.

"Reno" she said, "did Tseng know about the plan?"

"Dunno" answered Reno, "but he's turning the worst bastard I've ever met, yo."

"You can always come with me" she offered. "I think Mrs. Johnson still has room for another bodyguard."

"You kidding?" said Reno, with a smuggling smile. "This is personal, yo. Something smells fishy and I'm gonna find out what it is. As soon as I can walk, of course."

"Of course" she echoed.

What Reno did not say was that Rude and he already had a suspect in mind.

"Besides" the redhead winked to her, "I could not watch over your Mrs. Johnson while you're around, yo."

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

"This way, please."

The young woman followed the dark skinned man through a corridor. She felt how her guts seemed to be reorganizing on their own, and with good reason. Few were chosen to ascend to the Turk's high rank, and now it was her turn.

Rude opened a door leading to a vast office and let her enter first. Huge windows let the morning light illuminate the room. Sitting at the wooden table was a dark haired man. Surely he was Tseng, their leader. He lifted his brown eyes as she approached and smiled to her.

"You must be Elena Faithguard" he said as he stood and circled the big desk to shake her hand.

Elena blushed and smiled shyly in return.

"Yes, sir, ready to begin."

What followed was a simple interview, much simpler than Elena had expected. Though for now she was substituting another Turk who was at the hospital, she would be included in the group if she didn't fail. Rude observed how Tseng was being far kinder than he used to be, a smiled more, though that gesture didn't reach his eyes. It was as if he was wearing a mask of gentleness, but he knew that the inside was harsh and bitter.

As she and Rude left the office, she could barely restrain her enthusiasm, and a wide smile spread over her face.

The dark skinned man looked at her with a deep concern: Huge, sparkling, honey eyes; childish, pale face; charming smile; innocent behavior, almost as innocent as…

He shook his head. It was true that he had been acting far more charming this morning. Usually he wouldn't talk to anyone, except to give orders or reprimands. He seemed to not have cared if Reno died in that explosion. He even ill-treated Aerith, his most cherished -if not worshiped- being. Something was indeed very strange, and they had to find out what it was.

Finally, Rude escorted the young Elena to show her the other offices. She would start the next day, and was spared that day to make the necessary arrangements.

Minutes after she had left for her own apartment, Rude could hear Tseng's footsteps along the corridor, surely heading to Rufus' office. When all the strange things had begun, Reno discovered that their boss paid frequent visits to the laboratories. It was appalling to think about what Hojo could possibly do to him but, reviewing the scientist's curriculum, it couldn't be good.

They had planned to break into the laboratory, even into Hojo's apartment, now that he was missing, just to find the necessary clues. But their plan had been delayed due to Reno's convalescence, for he was the specialist when it came to lock picking and computer hacking.

Rude only hoped that Elena wouldn't be another victim, as the redhead nearly had been.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

End of chapter 12.

Maybe some people thinks that, since this is supposed to be about Sephiroth, what the heck are the Turks doing here, interrupting his appearances? Well, the same could be applied to FF series. There are many characters, all of them with their own past, their inner demons and struggles, and it could be difficult to understand many things if this is not developed or hinted.

Yeah, yeah, I know this lecture wasn't necessary, since almost all of you like Tseng and Co. but I wanted to say it .

Stay tuned for more!


	13. 13 Of Curiosity and Captivity

**Disclaimer:** Again, I don't own any character of Final Fantasy, any of them, much to my dismay (I wish I could own pre-psycho Sephiroth all to me, but it cannot be). Only Ania is of my invention.

This fanfict has been inspired by the song of Yann Tiersen, "Comptine d'un Autre Étè".

Many thanks to NoBuddy for her encouragement, corrections and ideas.

Enjoy!

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

**CHAPTER ****13.**

_If you hadn't met me, I'd be fine on my own._

_Never felt so lonely, then you came along._

_**You're Not Here – Akira Yamaoka (Silent Hill 3 OST)**_

XXXXXX-X-XXXXXX

Her head throbbed and her eyelids weighted as she hadn't been sleeping at all for a week. Strangely, she didn't feel the hard and cold surface of the cubicle's floor, but a soft material beneath her body, and what seemed a blanket over her.

Maybe all had been just a nightmare; now she was going to wake up and find out that she was still at home; she was going to see her mother downstairs before she had to go to her church, to tend to her flowers, and maybe she would see Cloud again.

But for now she was going to linger there only a bit more. The flower girl felt so drained out that she couldn't even snuggle against the pillow, the way she liked, and she fell again in a dreamless sleep.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

He had been lucky, indeed. The President had known who was going to kill him and why, before being impaled like the filthy pig he was. He had been the one who had allowed those experiments on Mother. The only useful thing Sephiroth had ever learnt from him was that emotions were for weaklings. A pity he had had no time to search for Hojo. The swordsman had imagined an especial treatment for his _father_. It didn't matter now; there would be enough time for revenge.

They had arrived in Kalm in a matter of minutes thanks to his speed, and now they were securely accommodated at the inn. Now his main task was to take care of the girl. It seemed an irony, for she was going to die at Mother's hands, but she had instructed him to deliver her in perfect conditions, and Mother was not to be disobeyed.

Sephiroth watched her sleeping form. As he had imagined, the girl would take hours to wake up completely. That gave him enough time to wander freely in the wilderness all night long. He didn't like confined spaces or being idly, so he left, for he was sure that she would be fine. When he returned, it was almost dawn, and he made sure that the curtains were closed, for she would have quite a hangover when she woke up.

He smiled inwardly, remembering the moment when he had taken her boots off the night before. Such gargantuan things for those little and delicate feet. Even when he caressed her ankles to see if they were as soft as they seemed to be she didn't react. Hojo surely had sedated her for a long time. During that time her pendant remained still too. He had the opportunity to see it with more detail, though he didn't dare to touch it. Throughout his training and later as a SOLDIER, Sephiroth had seen blue Materia. It was used as a support for others, especially the elemental ones. It used to have a blue-violet hue, but her pendant was of the purest sky-blue he had ever seen.

She surprised him with a sudden but weak moan. He watched her frowning lightly, as if she was having a bad dream, but he could sense her body in pain, due to the reaction against the narcotic. Her pendant began to glow again, faintly, seemingly answering to her distress; its pulse seemed to harmonize with her breath, as it calmed down and her features softened again.

There was no way to deny how enthralling the blue light was, almost hypnotizing. Now there wasn't any barrier between them, and he could approach her. He perched on the edge of her bed and took off one glove. The stone rested on the mattress, glowing, calling.

To touch something unknown, something which belonged to a Cetra, an enemy, it was a stupid thing to do. But he couldn't help himself. He wanted to know what kind of Materia the little orb was, if it was Materia at all, and what kind of symbiosis it had with the girl.

Skin met stone.

He felt an electric shock and rapidly withdrew his hand as he stood up.

The swordsman was still wandering what had happened when a wave of dizziness overcame him. Images passed before his eyes without him being capable of seeing them clearly, let alone understand them. They were gone as quickly as they appeared. The swordsman staggered back to the other bed. It had been a long time since he last felt sick. He wondered what power that stone held that affected him so much, and if it was what Mother was talking about.

The blue glow faded, leaving them again in the darkness.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

Consciousness was overcoming her. After the strange dreams, full of whispering voices preventing her from some nearby danger, the sudden silence of her surrounding was welcomed. Aerith struggled to open her eyes. Her vision was blurred at first, but soon she got used to the half-light. She sat, startled, when she noticed the unknown room.

"You might better not move too much" said a deep male voice.

The girl turned to the stranger, and found a tall man, clad in black leather, with pale skin and gleaming silver hair. But the most remarkable feature were his eyes. The pupils were feline slits, and never had she seen such an intense green hue. They seemed to glow on their own accord, just like…

Cloud's eyes.

Zack's eyes.

Her mind nagged with a faint sense of danger, as if she should have known who he was. The whispers were still ringing in her ears; and there was something she had been told recently, but she could not remember.

"Who are you?" she asked, and coughed, for her throat was too dry.

"My name is Sephiroth" said the man. She had heard that name before. Cloud had spoken of him, but this man was supposed to be dead.

"But, they said you died."

"Apparently" he snorted, "that's not true."

And a name struck her, clearly and undeniably: Jenova. That was why she had heard about Sephiroth. Cloud told her about the older SOLDIER claiming to be Jenova's son.

Jenova.

"I see that you remember who I am, and you already know who Mother is" he smirked almost mockingly at her gesture. "Good, that will save us some questions."

"What are you going to do with me?" she managed to speak, though she felt trembling all over.

"I will only take you to Mother, that's all" said the man, pretending to sound innocent.

Aerith didn't answer and turned her face, so he could not see how terrified she was. Her head still throbbed, and she felt a deep nausea overcoming her.

"You will be still unable to walk for a few hours" he said as he turned to the door. "I'd suggest you lie down again and rest. I'll order them to bring you food soon" Sephiroth paused and looked at her sideways. "Do not try to go anywhere, nor tell anyone about this. You wouldn't like to see a village being razed."

And with that, he went out the room. As soon as she heard the key turning, Aerith ran to the little bathroom and threw up. She could barely stand on her feet and had to hold tight to the basin to wash her mouth. When the girl looked at the mirror she could appreciate how ill she looked: her skin was paler than usual and deep shadows had formed beneath her eyes.

She staggered to the bed and slumped onto it. She was too drained out to even think about ways of escaping. Her hand went to her dress pocket and pulled out a green orb, slightly bigger than the blue one she wore on her neck. It could have been strange to anyone the idea of preserving anything like this. That Materia didn't do anything, but it was her mother's gift and the only memento the girl could conserve of her. Many times in the church of the slums she had heard her. Aerith never told Elmyra about this, but she still talked with her mother. She considered herself very fortunate to have two mothers who looked after her.

Now she was alone with that strange man, Sephiroth. Cloud and Tifa had told her about the horrible things he did at their hometown. Whatever he planned for her surely was not good at all. He was dangerous and she had to escape from him as soon as possible. But, how?

She clutched her mother's Materia near her heart and fell asleep again, not caring if the voices were going to bother her again or not.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

End of Chapter 13.

I am really sorry for the delay, but I've been in a great block. I had the strong temptation of make them throw at each other arms, but it would have been only a major fangirl service. Not that I don't want to do it, but I want to keep it as realistic as possible.

_Sephiroth: whines_ Why not?

_Me: _Because there are enough fanficts of that kind all over the Net. If you want to provoke yourself a major nosebleed, then surf a little and search for them.

_Sephiroth: _You take all the fun out of life, didn't you know?

As always, thanks to my faithful reviewers. I really appreciate their encouragement and kind words.

Stay tuned for more!!


	14. 14 Of Missions and a Lullaby

**Disclaimer:** Again, I don't own any character of Final Fantasy, any of them, much to my dismay (I wish I could own pre-psycho Sephiroth all to me, but it cannot be). Only Ania is of my invention.

This fanfict has been inspired by the song of Yann Tiersen, "Comptine d'un Autre Étè". In this chapter, a certain song has a lot of importance, as you will see. It's "Não Chora Menina" (Don't Cry, Little Girl). The original melody is Nobuo Uematsu's "Kids Run Through The City", for FF VI, but they wrote some wonderful lyrics, making it a lullaby. You can find the english translation at 

Many thanks to NoBuddy for her encouragement, corrections and ideas. And all of you for your reviews!

Enjoy!

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

**CHAPTER ****14.**

_Don't cry little girl, don't cry anymore._

_Someday you will know_

_Life always has a reason,_

_And even sadness is worth something._

_**Don't Cry, Little Girl (Não Chora Menina**__**) – Nobuo Uematsu.**_

XXXXXX-X-XXXXXX

When he came back she was sleeping again. In the nightstand there was the tray in which they had served her food and drink and nothing remained. It was a good sign that she was recovering her appetite. They could leave Kalm that day before midday.

He opened the curtains and the sunlight bathed the room. Aerith stirred and opened her eyes, blinking at first, until she noticed his presence. She sat on the bed, but said nothing, only threw the swordsman an angry look before turning her back on him. That amused him greatly, for he expected her to cower and beg for her life. Maybe it would be entertaining to toy with her a little.

"I see you are awake and fully recovered" he commented casually, while leaning against the wall and still looking at her back. "We are leaving as soon as you are ready."

"I'm not going" came her stubborn answer.

"I'm afraid that what you want is not possible" he circled silently the bed and leaned very close to her. "You are coming with me."

A little hand made solid contact with his pale cheek, leaving a faint red mark. Fast as a snake, the silver haired man grabbed her wrist and yanked her to stand up.

"Do it again" he hissed, as he leaned so close to her that his silver bangs mingled with hers, his green eyes glowing in anger, "and I'll kill you. Mother told me to bring you to her alive, if possible" he emphasized the last two words to make clear that he wouldn't tolerate more disrespect.

She tried to avert her eyes from his face, his anger too intense for her to stand. But with his other hand he took her chin and forced her to look him in the eye. Then his globed fingers traced slowly the line of her jaw and cupped her face. After a few tense seconds, he released his grip and went out the room. He stopped at the doorframe and talked without facing her, his calm regained.

"I'll be waiting downstairs. Do not linger here."

As soon as he closed the door again she sat on the bed, shaking. What had possessed her to do that she didn't know; maybe it had been out of feeling cornered, but what was certain was that she had to escape from him. She needed to find Cloud and the others.

Cloud.

How he reminded her of Zack. Her poor Zack. She would never forget that day, when she heard his voice in the church, an undeniable sign of his returning to the Lifestream. So much her life had changed since they met. Even the Planet seemed to be talking with a different voice.

Aerith grabbed her pendant.

The same place: her church, but many years ago, back to when her world wasn't so twisted and she only had to worry about her flowers, while Shinra, Hojo and the laboratories were only a bad dream. Ania, sweet old Ania, had appeared to her at that sacred place. Her spirit had asked the girl to deliver that stone to its rightful owner. For some reason Ania could not approach him, and the flower girl was the only one who could actually talk to her.

"_But" _Aerith said, _"how could I know who he is?"_

"_When he was a boy, his soul was warm and gentle. He craved for love and needed much of it, but also he had plenty in his heart to give in return. Now he's a man and surely a fine one, but I haven't been able to reach him. That's why I ask you for your help. This stone is only meant to a dear one, for it contains all the love and care of the ones who returned to the Lifestream and still want to protect the living. It will also shield you from pain, since I gave it to you willingly."_

Of course Aerith accepted the quest, because at that time it seemed quite easy to find him. But, as she grew up, she discovered that such a person was indeed difficult to find.

Until she met Zack.

He was warmhearted, gentle and caring. But it was impossible, for he never knew Ania. She even told him about the woman, but he had been raised at Gongaga and when he came to the city, she was already dead. Then she thought it could be Cloud, but it had been the same situation.

So she currently was before a dead end.

She stood up and breathed deeply. Her captor waited for her in the floor below and had to join him. Later she would think of a way of escaping, and about the many things she had to do.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

As the girl descended the stairs, she saw him again. He didn't look at her, something she thanked inwardly. Aerith had resolved long ago not to crumble before those who looked down at her. It wasn't a matter of pride, but of survival. One didn't last long in the slums if he showed some weakness.

Sephiroth opened the door and lead her outside.

The flower girl looked at her surroundings, trying to find some way, anything that could help her to escape. A hand on her back woke her up from her reverie.

"Do not try anything stupid."

And she moved, following him through the streets to the town's exit.

The Grasslands were all that Aerith had ever dreamed about the outside world: Green fields and a blue sky to no end, with few cotton white clouds passing by. Though still faintly, here she could feel the Planet more strongly than in Midgar. Several times she had looked at her captor; he seemed absent at times, as if he was listening to something that she couldn't. On and on they walked, Aerith always falling behind and having a hard time trying to keep up with him, for she never had been used to travel during so much time.

At nightfall they reached a large patch of woods, an isle among a green sea. They entered and found a little clearance were they could set camp. Sephiroth created a small fire with his Materia to keep her warm, and sat opposite the girl.

"Eat this" he said as he tossed her a ration of travel food. "Then get some sleep. I'll wake you up at sunrise."

It wasn't really necessary to tell her that, for she was really exhausted. So many emotions and the long travel made a good combination to fall asleep as soon as she laid on her side.

Sephiroth stood and began to pace around the place, more to soothe his own inner disturbance than to actually patrol, for they were in an area devoid of monsters.

A small part of himself had been bothering him since he found the girl. She had been abducted by Shinra and surely tortured at Hojo's hands. She had been treated like a rare and precious sample for experimenting. Clenching his fists, he had to remember that she was the last of a race of enemies, the ones who betrayed Mother and imprisoned her. With her death they could really take the Planet from humans and return to what it was supposed to be.

But he had to force himself to tear his eyes form her slender form. He could not erase from his memory how the girl felt when he held her on his arms, the softness of her pale skin, how thin and delicate her wrists were, or how enticing was her trembling body near his. Even her green eyes were different and seemed to shine with inner light, though much different from the Mako enhanced ones.

As he watched her once more, his eyes lingered on the shape of her face, how the firelight sculpted her features, softening them even more. He looked at her coral lips and remembered how they had parted as she held her breath when he grasped her out of fury. And things grew worse if he looked lower, trailing her curved silhouette down to the hem of her dress. He had to repress the desire to lie beside her, to hold her again.

She stirred in her sleep and moaned weakly like the night before. This time he could not sense any physical pain in her, so it should have been a bad dream, judging on how she began to whimper and kick, as if something was pursuing her. After a while, he concentrated on her mind to see the source of her distress and what he saw made him jump to her side and begin to shake her gently, yet quickly, to wake her up.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

Darkness surrounded her and the voices had disappeared.

She was alone.

Suddenly, she saw herself. It was one of her recurrent nightmares, from the time she was still a little girl and lived at Shinra's laboratory with her mother.

They came to their little cell and snatched her away from her mother's arms. Aerith knew she was going to see Hojo, so she screamed and cried until they strapped her to a metal table. Then Hojo appeared, but she could not scream anymore and had to witness how he cut her, time after time, until she could bear the pain and the sight of the scientist's gloved hands stained with her blood no more and passed out.

Then she saw her mother at the train station. She was lying on the stairs, her clothes soaked with her own blood from the many stitched cuts that had reopened all over her body. Aerith begged her to wake up but she wouldn't. Instead, she would open her eyes to reveal two white orbs and her skin would root and darken. Then all would begin again: the little cubicle, the metal table, her dead mother…

She heard a voice and consciousness was fighting its way to regain her. She felt being shaken before she could open her eyes and see someone leaning over her.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

The girl opened her eyes with a gasp and a hoarse scream left her lips as she crawled away from the man, until she recognized him and froze, trembling, her breath fast and superficial and tears running down her pale cheeks.

"You were having a nightmare" he said, standing from his crouching form and turning to resume his pacing, not only to let her compose, but to hide his own distress.

What the girl was dreaming about was not her imagination, but real remembrances from her childhood. He knew it all too well, for they mirrored his own. And it only made his remorse and his confusion grow even more. She had suffered as him and she was alone like he was once.

"Do not worry" he said without turning to her. "Hojo won't lay a hand upon you anymore."

She said nothing and he could hear a muffled sob coming from her. Sephiroth remained with his back turned, as he continued his pacing out of the circle of light. Mentally, he slapped himself. He should not befriend her, no matter how similar their pasts had been. They were different, they were enemies.

Out of a sudden, he heard her singing. It was a faint and weak sound, but he could distinguish clearly the words and the melody. He could do nothing except listening to her voice, sweet and melodious, singing that lullaby. At the end, her voice broke and fell silent. He turned around to see her. She had come nearer the fire, and now was sitting hugging her knees and burying her face in her arms.

She heard his steps approaching and quickly wiped her tears before lifting her face. He stood at a distance, but the look in his eyes was strange. He appeared to be confused and curious at the same time. He took another step towards her, and Aerith felt the urge to run away from him. The man finally sat cross-legged near her, without tearing his eyes from the girl.

"You were dreaming about Hojo" he said.

"How do you know?"

"I can feel what you think and dream. Since when do you know him?"

"I…" she shifted lightly without looking at him. Those green eyes were beginning to make her feel uneasy. "Since I can remember. Mother told me that we were brought there when I was a baby."

"Then, she taught you that song?"

"She… used to sing it to me when my examinations ended and I returned to our cell" Aerith told him the truth hoping that he would leave her alone, but he didn't stop staring at her. His request took her by surprise.

"Would you sing it again? Just the melody."

She looked at him. There was no trace of the coldness she had seen before in his face. His features were softer, almost sad, and his eyes only shone with the firelight. He looked like a normal young man, a handsome one, indeed.

Trying to ignore the blush that crept to her face, Aerith looked again at the fireplace, took breath and began humming the melody. So many years she had used it to calm her down when she was sad, it was strange to sing it for someone else. When the last note ended, she looked at him shyly. The man was also looking at the fire, but his eyes seemed to be staring at something within him. Maybe he was lost in his own thoughts. After a few moments, he stood up and moved away.

"Sleep" he said in a commanding, yet soft voice. "Tomorrow we will continue."

"What about you?" she dared to ask.

"I don't need to sleep or eat. I will keep watch."

She saw him moving out of the circle of light, without looking at her. Cloud and Tifa had told her that he was a ruthless man, and what she had seen from him confirmed that. But what had just happened filled her with bewilderment.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

End of Chapter 14.

How was that?

The song that Aerith was singing was "Não Chora Menina", by the way.

Seems like our flower girl is melting Sephy… or not.


	15. 15 Dreams

**Disclaimer:** Again, I don't own any character of Final Fantasy, any of them, much to my dismay (I wish I could own pre-psycho Sephiroth all to me, but it cannot be). Only Ania is of my invention.

This fanfict has been inspired by the song of Yann Tiersen, "Comptine d'un Autre Étè".

Many thanks to everyone for their encouragement, corrections and ideas.

Enjoy!

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

**CHAPTER ****15.**

XXXXXX-X-XXXXXX

Darkness.

Silence.

Then a multitude of voices began to sound together as one being.

_Beware of her. Beware the Calamity._

Images of the Planet being consumed: green fields turning to wastelands, rivers drying. A giant being covered the dark sky with its wings; the energy of the Lifestream flowed to its body, and the creature absorbed it entirely. Another winged form appeared, this one was bigger than a large man, yet it was dwarfed by the first. It slew the creatures of the Planet, one by one, and gathered the souls for the giant.

_Beware of the One Who Controls Others__._

Darkness again. She distinguished someone through the dimness. It appeared to be a child. He or she was sitting on the ground, curled in a ball and she could hear faint childish sobs. She wanted to reach for the child but, the more she walked towards the little figure, the more she appeared to be moving away.

Silver threads restrained her feet and hands and clouded her vision.

Then the presence, the same she felt at the labs. Something strange, something alien, not from this Planet. It was embracing her rapidly but, before she was forced to turn and behold the creature, she woke up.

Aerith opened her eyes and a small gasp escaped her lips: She was still in the forest. It took her a few moments to realize that fact and to settle what she had seen in her dreams. Never in her life had she been tormented in her dreams with anything besides the labs and Hojo. All the creatures had seemed so strange, yet so real. She even had sensed how the life was being sucked from the Planet, and somehow knew that it was real.

She took her Materia and pressed it against her heart. She could feel the comfort it gave to her spirit. As they traveled far from Midgar, she had noticed how her mother's materia grew stronger, and how she could feel things differently. She could actually _see_ now the bond each creature, each rock had with the Planet. All her mother had taught her could only be applied at the church, a sacred place. But there in the outside world, the voice of the Planet, of life itself, could be heard clearly.

Slowly, it came the realization of why she was outside Midgar, and her heart skipped a beat. She was afraid of him, was afraid of how alien he appeared before her, in a way she could not explain, though she had no choice but to not show any fear, a difficult task, given the situation.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

Dawn was near. He watched her again while she slept and an emotion he was not familiar with began to flood him slowly. The sound of her voice still ringed in his ears, sweet and young like her. When she had intoned that song he felt a daze, but also things he didn't understand began to creep inside him. He sensed as if he had found something precious after many years of searching. So he asked her to sing it again.

And now he regretted it.

He regretted having asked her for that song, because now remorse had taken a hold on him. She would die at Mother's hands and there was no other way. Angered, he looked at the clearing sky, where few stars still lingered. He could not understand why this girl could have invaded his mind the way she did. Of all the women he had been with, none of them had been capable of drawing his attention beyond a night's affair. This girl, he didn't know what could be about her that enthralled him this way.

Movement.

She groaned faintly, until realization of where she was came to her. He turned and saw the girl sitting up and stretching her arms lazily until her eyes met his and she blushed, averting her face from him. Sephiroth said nothing and went to scatter the ashes of their little camp.

"Come" he commanded, "we must keep on moving."

"Why did you kidnap me?" Aerith asked, still sitting in the grass and hugging her knees.

"Because", he answered, mildly amused, "I have been instructed to do so."

"Who is Jenova?" she said all of a sudden.

Sephiroth snorted. "That is something you will know when you meet her."

Aerith just bit her lower lip and looked away. He saw how she winced slightly and sensed her fear.

Sephiroth sighed inwardly. If all mornings were going to be like this, then it was going to be a long journey.

"I said", he reached for her arm and pulled her up, "that you are coming with me. I have little patience; do not put it to test."

"Is she going to kill me?" she said, though she was almost stuttering.

"Probably", the swordsman said in a blank tone.

She let go a small gasp, maybe of disbelief, maybe of fear. Sephiroth let her go and she stepped away from him.

"We must continue" he said sternly. "Unless" he added with a smirk, as he eyed her form, "you want me to carry you. That wouldn't be very tiring. You look like a light weight."

"I'll walk" she stammered as she slowly circled him, her hands raised protectively to her chest.

"Fine" he said and turned to leave, his face an emotionless mask again.

During that day she noticed that she wasn't falling behind him anymore because he had slowed his stride, walking at her side. Maybe he was preventing any chance of escaping or, at least, having to chase after her. Aerith didn't doubt that he was capable of catching her should she tried to run away. Many times she stole glances towards him: The swordsman towered above her and could easily block the sun as they walked. Images of the previous night passed before her eyes. It was as if there had been other man with her. Even his catlike eyes had seemed human in the firelight.

She shoved away those thoughts. What was she thinking? He was her kidnapper. Whatever he planned for her was not good, and their first conversation that morning had confirmed that.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a firm hand on her shoulder.

"Look" he said, pointing with his other hand.

She complied, and what she saw make her want to scream. At some distance, three creatures which resembled wolves were chasing a chocobo. The bird was already tired, and the wolves had surrounded it.

Aerith was about to ask him to help the animal, but Sephiroth had already extended his hand, and from his fingertips erupted several lightning which collided with the beasts, miraculously avoiding the bird. The wolves yelped but did not die. They turned instead to their attacker, all interest on their previous prey lost, and charged. Aerith muffled a scream as she saw them coming, but Sephiroth launched forward before she could react. He moved on a blur, passing between the beasts and leaving behind him only severed furry carcasses. His sword was barely stained with blood, which he cleaned with a swift shake, before sheathing it.

Aerith was so mesmerized with his way of fighting that she didn't notice the chocobo approaching him until the man was already petting it. Then he came back to where she was standing, and the bird followed him without command.

"How…?" she began when he was near her.

"I saved its life" he explained while the bird watched her with curiosity. Its brilliant yellow plumes cresting atop the head and the huge cerulean eyes remembered her of Cloud. It purred softly as Sephiroth stroke its neck. "These birds are easy to tame, if one knows how to behave. And yes" he added with a smirk, "Cloud looks like one."

She gasped, both frightened and angered at the intrusion in her mind.

"You know we met some time ago", he said, and extended his hand towards her. "Come."

She only gave him a puzzle glance, before realization came to her and she blushed, shaking her head emphatically. He sighed and wondered how he had managed to keep his patience at such an unusually high level.

"To your information, we are going too slowly. Plus, we need to cross the Marshes, and the only way to do it without the Zolom attacking us is using a chocobo. Come or I'll have to drag you", he hardened his glance, "and I won't be gentle."

She complied, though she didn't look at him and stiffed when he grabbed her by the waist to lift her and also when he mounted behind, circling her body with one of his arms, but she didn't utter a protest.

The silver haired man wasn't happy either. The awkward pace of the chocobo made them stay too close for both tastes. He was technically embracing her, maintaining a closeness that he had only allowed at lovemaking. Her thick braid stroked the sensitive skin of his pectorals in a way that made Sephiroth wonder why he couldn't be a little more sensitive to cold, so he had to wear a turtleneck.

But, at the same time, it felt good to have the girl so close to him.

"I thought the Midgar Zolom was only a legend" she said after they had crossed a good distance and the mountains suddenly turned to the South.

"It's not a legend" he answered, half cursing the wind which made him bend and talk into her ear. "And there is more than one."

"Really?" she half turned her head to him, obviously forgetting who she was talking to, and he accidentally brushed his lips against her soft cheek. The reaction couldn't have been more quick and reflective: both straightened on their seats, not uttering a single word, but Aerith felt her face burning while Sephiroth bit his lips, trying to erase what he had just felt.

It was not fair and he was beginning to feel angry with himself. He was not supposed to let that basic instinct take a hold on him. He never allowed it before, and he was not going to start now.

The swordsman felt her stiffening and leaning forward slightly. He eased his grip on her waist, not to her comfort, but to lighten some of the tension that was beginning to build inside him.

This was going to be a very long journey.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

So, liked the little teasing? Sorry I didn't put any song this time, but I preferred this chapter to have none. Not that I wasn't capable of finding any! _-glares muses-_ Ah, well.

I'm sorry for the long time at updating, but I was a bit busy.

_**Sephiroth:**_ Yeah, thinking about the many ways you can embarrass me.

_**Aerith:**_ Aw, don't be like that. You're such a cutie when you blush.

_**Sephiroth:**_ -_glares everyone-_

**EDIT:** A short reference to Genesis was removed from this chapter. Sorry for the inconvenience, NoBuddy, but it didn't suit the main plot. It will be replaced somewhere in next chapters, I promise.


	16. 16 Thief

**Disclaimer:** Again, I don't own any character of Final Fantasy, any of them, much to my dismay (I wish I could own pre-psycho Sephiroth all to me, but it cannot be).

This fanfict has been inspired by the song of Yann Tiersen, "Comptine d'un Autre Étè".

Many thanks to everyone for their encouragement, corrections and ideas.

Enjoy!

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

**CHAPTER ****16.**

_**The Sneaky Frog and the Scoundrel – FFIX OST (Nobuo Uematsu)**_

XXXXXX-X-XXXXXX

Reno took a peek around the corner. The corridor was likely to be empty at this hour of the night, but old habits die hard.

The redhead Turk still could recall those times when he had to hide among the debris of the slums just to avoid being beaten or suffer worse things. He had always attracted the attention of bullies and other kinds of men. Having bright aqua eyes and a pretty face was more of a burden than a blessing where he was from, so he had to learn how to hide and run. Combat wasn't something to choose, for he had always lacked the necessary strength.

Until he joined the Turks and met Tseng. He had taught him that muscle is not everything in a fight. One could be small and thin and still beat up a supposedly stronger opponent.

He approached the lab's door cautiously. All cameras were hacked and a four hours tape would be playing. That was the time he had to complete this mission. They had needed to recruit Elena to have access to the guard's room. The blonde had been reluctant at first but, after an intensive training session with Tseng in the VR room from which she returned to the office with a cut on her cheekbone and many bruises all over her body, she was more than eager to begin with the plan. The redhead smiled remembering how the girl had been flirting with the security guard to distract him so Reno could get the codes. And the only reward that guy had earned had been a slight promise of a date. She was the babe Tseng needed.

If he were the Tseng he once knew.

They needed to find out what Hojo had been doing with him. It was not natural of him to be that way. He had been once so chivalrous, the perfect gentleman. But now he was so ruthless that he and Rude only stuck by his side because they knew that wasn't his true self.

His slender fingers worked quickly on the security panel, hacking it in a matter of seconds. The door opened with a satisfying swish, leading the redhead to the partially illuminated room. It was not a nice view and Reno could understand the rumors about even the fearless General Sephiroth feeling uneasy about this place.

Several Mako tanks were arrayed at his left. Some of them, the filled ones, glowed faintly on their own accord with their greenish content; but the most unsettling thing was that there were living creatures floating inside the tanks and they were beginning to show the characteristic deformities of a prolonged exposition to Mako energy.

Along the opposite wall were the computers, now shut down. Nothing of interest, for Hojo always worked in a separate room. Reno strode to the metal door next to the tanks, trying not to stare too long at the beasts inside the liquid. One of them was a Nibel Wolf, without a doubt, but unnatural long fangs were beginning to develop in its muzzle and its muscles were overgrowing almost disgustingly.

Working again at the number pad, the redhead opened the door and entered the next room.

It was a small area, compared with the rest of the lab, but one person still found enough space to work comfortably.

Reno rubbed his hands in anticipation, as the familiar excitement at breaking into a forbidden place began to appear. Ever since he was a child he liked to pick locks, not only to get food and clothes, but also out of pleasure. And he loved when his job required those abilities. But maybe this mission wouldn't be easy. Hojo was known for his calculating intelligence and maybe what the Turk was searching for was ciphered, it that was there at all.

The small desk was covered with just a few piles of documents: reports from his numerous experiments. He looked at them, but none of them attracted his attention. With a sigh, he leaned on the table, searching for something that might help him. Maybe the scientist stored all the important data in a personal computer to transport it with him. That would complicate things.

Something caught his eye.

There was a filing-cabinet on a corner and it looked strangely misplaced, as if someone had tried to move it. Reno directed his attention to the gap between the cabinet and the wall and then pushed the furniture to widen the gap.

There it was.

An untrained eye wouldn't have seen it, but Reno could distinguish a thin line on the wall forming a square, of about a foot's length. He knew this kind of hideouts and how to open them. He laid his fingers symmetrically and pressed lightly, until he heard a click and the thing got out from its place.

The real place was bigger than the entrance, but he could easily spot a pile of old looking files, neatly bundled in a thick cloth, under another pile of newer ones. Reno took them all.

He smirked to himself. This hadn't taken even a whole hour to be completed, so he had three whole hours either to sit down and read or to rummage the place.

Rummaging was a priority. Who knew what kind of secrets was hiding that creep, besides messing up with his boss' mind? So, rubbing his hands and rolling up his sleeves he proceeded to the pleasant task of poking around the little office.

But his joy was short and it took him only ten minutes to drop on the chair, fully disappointed.

"_What's the problem with the man?"_ he thought. All drawers were almost empty, holding a few boring and unimportant experiments' reports. He rubbed his red spikes, _"I suppose that's the bad thing agout hitting the big price too soon."_

Shrugging, he tucked his loot under the arm and went outside that office. Hojo or not Hojo, the whole place emanated an eerie atmosphere which made him shiver.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

"This is boring, yo!" said the redhead, tossing the file on the coffee table. "And I'm hungry."

"Don't complain" retorted Rude, who had been stoically reading all the useless reports even twice, just in case he skipped something. Reno began to wonder if he wasn't an android or something. Even the normally cheerful Elena was showing signs of being tired. It was no wonder at all, for after her training with Tseng she had been assigned to reorganize all the old reports from two years back. And it was well past midnight.

Now and then she was rubbing her temples or her now reddish eyes, yet she didn't complain. The girl was so eager to help that she was overdoing it.

"Elena, why don't you go home? You look like you are about to drop dead, yo."

"No, it's fine, really" she offered a tired smile and resumed her reading.

"Why we have to go through all this junk when the real thing is still bundled?" Reno moaned for the last time. Since his arrival he had showed his disappointment when Rude insisted on searching every single file.

"I told you before. No loose ends."

"Yeah, yeah, but while we are burning our eyes with this shit time is running. I want to find Hojo as soon as possible. And also I want to go home. You don't know how upset Ciss will be if she calls me and finds out that I'm not at home resting."

"All right" sighed the dark skinned Turk while tossing the file on the table. Elena gave a little giggle and even the hieratic Rude had to suppress a smile remembering the bossy Cissney.

"Aaaawright!" said Reno rubbing his hands and returning to his mischievous grin.

He picked the package and put in on his knees, feeling like it was his birthday. Soon, the thin cloth that restrained the files was free and he could at last look at his loot. Rude and Elena sat at his sides to see well. The first file had the oldest appearance and only a name could be read on its cover.

_Sephiroth._

"What?" wailed Reno. "All this effort only to find reports about that madman?"

"Keep looking" said Elena. "Maybe there is more."

File after file he passed them. They felt like that had been a worthless effort, until Reno reached the last of them. It looked newer and on its cover the name _Tseng_ was written.

"Why pile it with Sephiroth's?" mused Elena.

"Don't ask me what goes in the mind of that creep" said Reno as he opened the file. "But we've found it at last."

Inside there were many hand-written notes, presumably from Hojo's infamous clipboard. Pages and pages of his sinuous, yet legible calligraphy that might reveal what he had done and if there was any solution at all.

The first paragraph of the first page said: _"The last specimen, though it appeared to be a success, proved to be mentally unstable, maybe due to Jenova's influence on his body and mind. I have to research on a clean, yet strong individual. I think that Turk leader Tseng will be perfect; he's a perfectly healthy individual, both physically and mentally…"_

"Just what you thought" said Elena.

In another paragraph said: _"… but this time I will not suppress memories like that time. I will do it chemically. Sometimes the old methods are the best..."_

Next he described the correct proportions of the formula and the method he was to use.

"Vitamin pills?" yelled Reno "Does Tseng take those things?"

"Some people care about their health" said Elena.

"Very funny."

"Kids…" retorted Rude for the second time, as he turned over the pages.

The blonde and the redhead kept quiet while the dark skinned man eyed the notes.

"Nothing" he said after a while.

"Nothing? What kind of _nothing_ is it?" said Reno.

"There seems to be plenty of information about Tseng's evolution. The end states that the experiment has been a success."

"That's why it was hidden" said Elena.

"Yeah, we have the _why_ and the _how_, but we don't have the _how-the-heck-are-we-going-to-cure-him_, yo."

They sat back in the couch. Nobody said anything for a while and in the silence, Elena closed her eyes to rest her sight, Reno yawned widely and even Rude took off his trademark sunglasses to rub the bridge of his nose.

"Something bothers me" mused Elena with her eyes still closed. "What about that _last time_ thing?"

"Surely he was referring to Sephiroth" said Rude. "It was a secret that he was infused with Jenova's cells before his birth."

"But" said the girl opening her honey eyes and leaning forward to look at him, "who is Jenova?"

"It's a creep from outta space" concluded Reno while stretching his arms. "It escaped the night the President was killed."

"And Sephiroth believed it was his mother."

"And was it?"

"Of course not, yo!" said Reno. "I could hardly believe that thing still lived at all."

"But it did." Rude stood up and began pacing out of the room with his sunglasses in his hand. "And now we have to chase Sephiroth. Tomorrow we're heading to the Mithril Mines, so…"

"Too late, pal" said Reno picking the files with Elena. To the puzzled look of the dark-skinned man, he answered: "Tseng already made the arrangements to go alone. We cannot interfere in this one."

"Damn! And Sephiroth has Aerith with him."

"Who is Aerith?"

"_My boss' crush some time ago"_ thought Reno, but finally said: "She's the Ancient. We know her for some time."

"Things are not what they used to be, so let's pray that they can evade Tseng."

"But… that wouldn't be going against Shinra?"

"Elena, Elena, little Elena" said Reno, adopting his cocky pose. "We do what we are paid for, that's all. What befalls upon Shinra is none of our business."

"But…"

"Remember what Rude has read" this time his stance was sterner. "We are _things_ to them, tools; nothing more and nothing less, so quit dreaming about the ideal Company because it doesn't exist, at least with Shinra."

Normally that statement had to be learned through experience, but with Elena there was no time, so Reno thought she needed some aid from his part. The redhead wasn't surprised when she looked at him with such confusion and even pain in her eyes.

"Awww, but don't worry, dear" he said hugging her shoulders with an arm. "You have us to rely on and…" he added with a mischievous smirk and winking to Rude "When we cure Tseng you'll know him as he really was. Who know? You may even want to date him."

"Oh, just stop it!" she said pushing Reno aside, between angry and amused.

"Come on" said Rude. "Tomorrow we will discuss what to do."

"I have a good idea: what if I find Hojo and beat the crap out of him until he spills what I want to know?" proposed the redhead crackling his knuckles.

"Suggestive, but he might have strong ties with Shinra. The new President may use him."

"Humpf, how boring."

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

End of chapter 16.

How was that? Our lovely redhead doesn't have much chapters, does him?

_**Sephiroth:**_ And I think that's more than enough.

_**Reno:**_ Don't be selfish!

_**Sephiroth:**_ I'm supposed to be the hero here.

_**Reno:**_ Yeah, some hero you are, kidnapping a poor girl.

_**Aerith:**_ He hasn't harmed me at all.

_**Sephiroth:**_ _-sticks out tongue-_

_**Aerith:**__ -whispering to Reno-_ Besides, I have a little trick down my sleeve.

_**Reno:**_ But… you don't wear sleeves.

_**Aerith:**_ _-face palm-_


	17. 17 Treason

**Disclaimer:** Again, I don't own any character of Final Fantasy, any of them, much to my dismay (I wish I could own pre-psycho Sephiroth all to me, but it cannot be).

This fanfict has been inspired by the song of Yann Tiersen, "Comptine d'un Autre Étè".

Many thanks to everyone for their encouragement, corrections and ideas. Especially to my three faithful reviewers. Cookies for everyone and a dumbapple pie to my betareader!

Enjoy!

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

**CHAPTER ****17.**

…_Like a hurt lost and blinded fool…_

_**Losing My Religion - R.E.M.**_

XXXXXX-X-XXXXXX

She couldn't believe her eyes.

He had dispatched the giant serpent almost effortlessly. Impaling the beast on a tree was not entirely necessary, but he wanted to warn their possible pursuers.

Now they walked through the caves at the end of the Marshes. Mithil Mines, if she remembered well. Indeed, the cave's walls glittered with raw metal veins and sometimes she had been tempted to touch them, but Sephiroth wouldn't allow more delay. The girl had been so shocked after his battle with the serpent that she felt unable to react; so he had to take her arm and almost drag her through the cave.

Their steps echoed through the walls. It was the only sound, except for Aerith's breath, not used to many exertions. Though there was an air current, the dim light and the proximity of the walls made her feel like she was again in a cage at the labs. The sensation seemed to lessen if she focused on the gloved hand that grabbed her arm.

At last and to her relief, after a turn a spot of light came to view: the exit. But Sephiroth halted abruptly and forced Aerith to stand behind his back, still holding her.

"Long time no see" came a deep and familiar voice from somewhere inside the cave. It made Aerith's heart skip a beat.

"So Shinra sent the Turks after me. I'm so flattered" was the mocking response.

"Hand over the Ancient."

Aerith made an effort to peek around her captor to see Tseng blocking the entrance. He wielded a pistol, though he maintained it low.

Sephiroth snorted. "What if I don't?"

"If we cannot have her, them she won't be yours either."

Then Aerith moved, catching both men by surprise. She tried to move forward to Tseng. Although he had mistreated her in the past, maybe this time he would help her, like he did before. Sephiroth restrained her, though not it time for, when she was in front of him, she could see how Tseng lifted his pistol and aimed at them.

There was a single shot.

Then she felt nothing.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

Sephiroth held Aerith's limp body with one arm as her jacket's left side darkened with blood. The other man didn't lower his weapon. As if someone had slowed time, he saw how the Turk's eyes aimed for another shot.

And he was not the target.

Extending his free hand, a ball of blinding light erupted from his fingers, hitting the Turk square in the chest and sending him to a nearby wall, seemingly dead. He didn't care. He couldn't right now. The girl still breathed, though superficially and he had to reach a safe place before it was too late.

Rushing out of the cave, he turned towards north, seeking a patch of wood where they could stop. Surely the Turks would go after them, so maybe a cave would be better.

At some point he looked upwards at the wall of the nearby mountain. It ended abruptly, forming what appeared to be a terrace. Sephiroth jumped to there, glad that the girl was oblivious to this kind of displays. It was no cave, but here trees grew thicker: it made a good place to hide and mount guard at the same time. Besides, the sun was setting and they would have had to find a place to rest.

He laid her on the ground and began to pull her jacket off as quickly and careful as he could. She was deadly pale, though her breathing had slowed, and she grimaced in pain.

The cloth was not as soaked as he had thought and there was no hole in it but a rip. He casted it aside and began examining her. Before he could notice, he let out a sigh of relief. The bullet had only scratched her. There was a good amount of blood, yes, but it was due to having hit a thick vein. Nothing than a Cure materia couldn't amend. He took her in his lap with great care, cradling her with one arm while with the other he pressed the wound and concentrated his energy on the curative spell.

"_Women."_ He thought, though a shadow of a smile crept to his lips. _"They always faint over the stupidest things."_

Sephiroth tried to ignore how he had nearly panicked when he thought Tseng hadn't failed, how relieved he felt now that she was safe and sound and how much he had desired to hold her like he was doing at that moment. Not a single thought crossed his mind as he looked at her now that the pain creases had disappeared. She was still pale, but her lips were regaining their usual pinkish tone.

He realized what he was doing when he saw his hand taking hers and lifting it to his chest. He stopped dead on his tracks, torn between self-reprimand and guilt, and the desire to keep on holding her.

Finally, he laid her down again and put her little jacket over her shoulders. He made a fire with his materia and went directly to the border of the firelight.

He tried as hard as he could not to think about her future death. He tried to pay no attention to how much distress it caused him even to consider that Mother was going to kill her in a most unpleasant and slow way. He tried, but couldn't shake the pang of gilt he felt.

Mother had taught him that the Planet needed to be cleansed and, in order to do so, the girl had to be sacrificed.

Was there no other way?

He never had questioned Mother's judgment before, but this time, with each passing day, he felt less than willing to accomplish his task. Maybe obedience was not his best skill after all. He had always carried his missions at Shinra with success whether he wanted or not, just because he felt there was nothing more for him. He had felt so relieved when he found Mother, his only kindred. Now he wasn't submitted to an inferior being, but a powerful one, someone worthy of his services and attention. He had been told to be her Angel of Death. She was to be the judge and Sephiroth would be the executioner, a dark shadow looming above humans, taking the life of the unworthy and sparing the faithful.

It was a perfect plan at first, though he was beginning to see certain flaws.

If Mother needed the power of the girl because she was an Ancient, why couldn't she extract it from the very Lifestream? Almost the entire race was there, after all.

Sephiroth turned to see her. The light of the fire, now the only source of light, sculpted again her soft features while she slept.

He never felt so torn like at that moment.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

Night crawled slowly. He had sat down finally by the firelight; there was no use on mounting guard, for terrain monsters didn't reached those high places and the condors had chased away the flying ones.

Then he felt the familiar tickling on his brain, unmistakable signal of Mother's communication. She wanted to know what delayed them.

"_I had to protect her"_ he said as he got up._ "Shinra is pursuing us and they want to kill her."_

"_YOU ARE DISSTRESSED. WHY?"_

Sephiroth hesitated. Mother couldn't intrude in his mind as she did with other creatures, but still she could know what he felt and she wanted an answer right now.

"_Mother, __is there no other way? Why do you have to kill her? Aren't there many Ancients' souls in the Lifestream?"_

He sensed a faint tickle of anger coming from her. He was a fool to awaken her wrath. Her sudden silence unnerved him; it made him feel like he was waiting defenseless for a blow. Then a storm broke loose inside his mind.

"_DO NOT BETRAY ME. I WARN YOU."_

He was about to answer when a deep pain erupted in his chest. It extended from there to his limbs, making him kneeling on the grass. His vision obscured and he could hear nothing but her voice as his body hit the ground and oblivion claimed him.

"_YOU WILL NOT BETRAY ME."_

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

Main idea of this Chapter: Jenova is a bitch.

So, I hope you already know why Sephy felt ill back on his days as a SOLDIER.


	18. 18 Comfort

**Disclaimer:** Again, I don't own any character of Final Fantasy, any of them, much to my dismay (I wish I could own pre-psycho Sephiroth all to me, but it cannot be).

This fanfict has been inspired by the song of Yann Tiersen, "Comptine d'un Autre Étè".

Virtual cookies to everyone that reads and reviews!

Enjoy!

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

**CHAPTER ****18.**

_You let your heart fly _

_To the limits of the sky _

_Because you have no one _

_By your side._

_**Into The Light (Love Theme for Final Fantasy IV) –**__** Nobuo Uematsu - FF-Pray **__(Translated from Japanese)_

XXXXXX-X-XXXXXX

The first thing he noticed was warmth, pleasant and comforting. Through numbed senses he felt his back on a hard and cold surface and his head slightly raised and resting on a soft surface. He had his hand on his chest again. It was so numb he couldn't move it. After all those years he still could not recall why he had such a habit.

Something soft touched his face. He fought to open his eyes and grunted faintly, but consciousness eluded him. That softness disappeared, leaving his skin aching for more. It reminded him of something cherished and lost, though it lingered near the surface of his memory and when he tried to recall it, that memory sunk again and was lost.

He fought against the sleepiness overpowering him and with great effort he could part his lids slightly. Above him he could see someone's blurry silhouette. It was upside-down. As his sight cleared, two green eyes and a dark mane illuminated by a nearby fire made discernible.

She was nursing him. It was ludicrous. He was her captor, why was she at his side instead of running away?

Sephiroth could move the hand over his chest and realized he was clutching something: her own little hand which was, at the same time, holding her blue stone. He retired his hand and she did the same, without a word. Then he sat down, despite his dizziness, but he didn't look at her while he asked.

"Why?"

She sifted her position on the grass but didn't respond. He could feel her uneasiness.

"Why did you help me?" he said turning to her.

The girl was staring in what appeared to be disbelief at her pendant. When she noticed him, she secured it on her neck once more. He saw how her hands trembled and how blushed her cheeks were, so he decided not to harass her any further.

"You… were in pain" was her weak answer at the end.

"I see" he said and snorted, though there was a hint of bitter humor in his voice. "So your heart is so tender that you can't stand even your enemy's suffering."

Aerith blushed even more.

"What happened?" she dared to ask. "At the cave, what did happen?"

"Don't you remember?" he asked in return as he stood up, any trace of his previous helpless state utterly vanished.

She did, but she was afraid it was real and not a nightmare. She remembered a deep pain in her shoulder and then nothing more.

"Tseng fired at us" said Sephiroth. "It was very unwise of you to move like you did. You could be death right now."

Aerith still didn't look at him but that scold made her feel outraged.

"Then you shouldn't have abducted me in the first place" she said before thinking. "Besides, I'll end up dead anyway."

He just turned his back and walked to the end of the circle of light.

"Dawn will come soon" he said. "Get some sleep."

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

Sleep didn't come, though she was exhausted. Aerith spent the rest of the night with her eyes closed, pretending to be resting, so she could put some order in her thoughts and avoid those unsettling green eyes.

How could she explain what had happened?

She remembered to have been awoken in the middle of the night by a hoarse scream and finding him collapsed on the ground; his face was contorted in pain and one of his hands clutched at his chest while the other dig the fingers in the ground. Of course her first thought was running away, but she heard him moaning faintly though choked breaths and didn't have the heart to leave him.

Without thinking, she kneeled by his side and, taking the pendant, she forced her hand to his chest where it appeared to be the source of the pain. Almost immediately his trembling and whimpering ceased and his breathing calmed down slowly. She couldn't withdraw the hand holding the stone for he had clutched at it and wasn't letting go, so she turned him carefully and made his head rest on her lap.

She remembered how she had seen him when he was sleeping. It was different from the night when he had asked her to sing and she had seen weariness and sadness in his eyes, yet it was very alike. She had dared to brush away some rebel strands from his brow; then she caressed his cheek with her free hand and marveled at how soft his skin was. In repose his features were almost childish, his well formed lips parted slightly as he breathed, revealing pearl-white teeth; his thick long lashes conferred him an almost feminine beauty; and his hair had such a unique shadow of silver and flowed through her fingers like silk threads.

Sometimes during his sleep he had frowned slightly. Some other times, when she had her hand on his cheek he had snuggled against it and a shadow of a smile could be seen in his lips, showing that he clearly enjoyed the contact. That reaction had made her smile in delighted disbelief: He, the fiercest SOLDIER, the most powerful warrior alive, acted just like a child and sought human warmth, though it appeared to have been more an unconscious reaction. It was hard to believe that this very man had caused so much pain to her friends.

Aerith had done the same many years ago with Zack; though that time it was only to soothe his spiritual pain and sadness.

_That day she sensed something was not right with him. His sky-blue eyes had lost their usual shine and, though he tried to smile to her, it was clear that it was a fake. Zack was too emotional to hide what he was feeling at any moment.__ Nevertheless, she went on talking about the little things they used to chat about, until she heard him sobbing uncontrollably and turned to see him._

_He had sat __on the table boarded floor, turning his back on her, for he didn't want Aerith see him that way. But he could not stop his crying. His soul ached and he had to let it go out, or he would have gone mad._

_Aerith hugged him. It was the only way she knew to soothe sadness: love and care.__ She held him until his sobs became less continuous; then she just took his hand and, in silence, she guided him to the patch of flowers._

_He had stopped at the border, still remembering her warning the first day they met, but she just smiled at him._

"_Take your boots off" she commanded softly, as she got rid of her own sandals._

_They entered the patch and she told him to lie on his back as she kneeled, so his head would rest on her lap. Zack closed his eyes as she caressed his face__ and there they stood for a long time, in silence, until she spoke._

"_What was his name?" she asked softly._

"_Angeal" he said after a moment._

_Just to mention his friend made him cry again.__ She wiped away those tears and kept on talking softly to him._

"_What happened?"_

"_I… tried to save him, but I couldn't do anything. He died on me."_

_She sighed while she rubbed his temples._

"_When I was very little" she began, "I lost my mother. Like your friend, she died on me. But she taught me a precious lesson: that she would be always with me and, like her, all the people that loved me would guard me from the Lifestream. So Angeal is not really gone, he will be with you when you need him most."_

_That had been a risky thing to do. Most people are so hurt by other's deaths that they wouldn't have accepted her words, __though Zack was different. She didn't know if it was innocence of utter trust on her, but that day, when he bid her goodbye, he thanked her for her comfort and her words and said something she never understood._

"_Thanks for your remedy" he had said. "Now I know what to do about another friend of mine."_

_She had giggled, imagining Zack nursing whoever was that friend._

"_No, no that kind of remedy" he laughed rubbing his dark spikes. "He would impale me if I tried to do that. I was referring to your attention. The guy is so closed up he would never admit he grieves over anything."_

That memory surfaced easily. It was difficult to forget the mischievous SOLDIER. Nevertheless, she had never faced anything like that very night.

And she never had seen her stone react like it did that night.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

Looking back at the campfire, he made sure that the girl was sleeping before going outside the firelight.

He needed some space. He needed to put some order on his thought about what had happened.

Sephiroth reached the border of the terrace and perched on it, seeking some peace in the landscape but finding none.

He let out a deep sight as he closed his eyes. He should have spoken with more care with Mother. But he couldn't understand how she could doubt him. Why, then, had she been calling him all this years in his dreams? Why doing it so desperately, if she didn't relied on him? He had done everything for her. He had turned his back on his previous life and all he knew, thinking blindly that he had only her, that it was going to be for a greater good. Yet he had refused to kill an entire village for her gathering of souls, so finally Mother took his body to do it herself; he had been humiliated by an unknown boy just for saving her and because of this he had spent five hellish years on the Lifestream, with only her voice and her company to comfort him; he had been her puppet, just because he thought she was a worthy master, and now she didn't trust him.

All these years with her now meant nothing since he had showed a faint glimpse of disagreement. And she had caused the attacks to return after having cured him. That was the way she was going to use to have a hold on him.

Just like Hojo did once.

He shook his head in disbelief. He didn't want to believe that. Mother had taught him to truly survive on his own. She had great wisdom and knowledge. She only sought to cleanse the Planet. She was stern because she had to be.

Still, he was the one who felt betrayed.

Sephiroth tried to ignore the pang in his chest, but it was too intense to overlook. Thin cracks of doubt had appeared, and those were going to be impossible to lessen, let alone erase completely. This incident had been just a warning, though he didn't want to acknowledge that fact.

Not yet.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

Main idea: Jenova is still a bitch.

Well, now you know who gave Zack the idea of hanging out with Sephy to cheer him up.


	19. 19 Strange Affection

**Disclaimer:** Again, I don't own any character of Final Fantasy, any of them, much to my dismay (I wish I could own pre-psycho Sephiroth all to me, but it cannot be).

This fanfict has been inspired by the song of Yann Tiersen, "Comptine d'un Autre Étè".

Virtual cookies to everyone that reads and reviews!

Enjoy!

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

**CHAPTER ****19.**

… _I know of a dream I should be holding…_

_**On Your Shore – Enya.**_

XXXXXX-X-XXXXXX

Dawn was coming.

He sighed and opened his eyes. The lands below were covered by the morning mist and a bluish light bathed the fields. It soon would change to a warmer palette, as soon as the Sun appeared at the other side of the mountains behind him.

Sephiroth got up and went to wake her up. There was a possibility that they had been spotted because of the smoke of their campfire, but it had been a necessary risk to take.

Now said fire was cold and only a small amount of ashes remained. The girl was curled over herself, trembling slightly but still asleep. He watched her with the same desire of the previous nights, but this time he also wondered what he was supposed to do. Not many people in his life had taken care of him. Most people looked at him in open awe or even fear. There had been only a handful of them that had treated him as an equal, either because they were really just like him or because they chose to forget that he was different.

She had feared him at first because he was an unknown man who had kidnapped her and worked for Jenova. But the fearful glances she had dared to throw at him from time to time had been disappearing day by day and he couldn't fathom why. That unsettled him greatly, for he didn't know how to respond to that.

And the incident last night.

She had seen his only weak side and she had nursed him using that peculiar blue stone, maybe to calm his pain as it always did with hers. But what really confused him was the fact that he had _enjoyed_ it.

He was not supposed to feel that way. She was a Cetra, an enemy. He was far more than a normal human, not meant to be bonded by those primal instincts.

Before he could move again she stirred and opened her eyes. At first she didn't notice him, so she stretched her arms and her back lazily. He could tell how she missed a real bed for the faint cracks on her back and her face wincing slightly. Maybe when they reached Junon he would rent her a room at an inn or, better yet, at a hotel.

The girl rubbed her eyes as she looked at her surroundings and spotted him; then she blushed and hugged her knees, looking at her boots again. Maybe she didn't know either how to react before him, that made things easier.

"Come" he said as he turned his back on her. "We must move on."

For a moment she didn't move and he thought that she was being merely stubborn like some days before. But then she got up without a word and walked towards the swordsman, though she still didn't dare to look at him.

He walked towards the border of the terrace with the girl right behind him. At some spot near the edge he heard her gasping in awe. The silver-haired man turned to her, frowning questioningly.

"Where…?" she stammered, looking at the lands below them and then to the high mountain wall behind their little camp.

"I had to climb up there in order to hide from the Turks" he explained a bit surprised. "Didn't you notice last night?"

She said nothing, but in her silence was the answer. Her face was too expressive to hide her surprise and mild embarrassment at the question. He believed she had been nursing him because there was no escape for her, but now he saw that maybe she didn't even think about it in the first place.

"We have to descend" he continued extending a hand towards her. "Come."

"But, how…?"

"You will see. Give me your hand."

After a brief hesitant pause Aerith extended her own hand shyly but, before she could react, he approached more and scooped her bridal-style, making her throw a little squeal.

"I'm sorry to be so direct" he said, "but it's the only way for you to descend safely."

Aerith was still silent, but he could tell how frightened the girl was: she was trembling and had thrown her arms around his neck, burying her face in its hollow, showing her fear to the fall. Sephiroth squeezed her lightly in reassurance and jumped.

The descent was not as traumatic as she had expected. Actually, Sephiroth could fall from great heights and still land as smoothly as a feather. Still, the mere fact of descending made Aerith cling onto him with even more strength, though she had ceased to tremble so frantically. It secretly amused him how like a little child she was sometimes, so naïve and so little used to the world outside Midgar.

The silver-haired man landed softly at last and talked to the burden clinging desperately to his neck, while he tried not to smile.

"We have arrived."

The girl disentangled her arms from his neck as he put her back down but, not used to that kind of traveling, her knees buckled and he had to catch her before she collapsed. She clung onto him then, resting her head against his chest. She could hear nothing, save for his beating heart, and could feel nothing, except for his strong arms delicately embracing her. She closed her eyes, forgetting that he was her kidnaper, forgetting that he was the son of Jenova and letting his warmth surround her.

"Are you all right?" he asked softly after a while.

Aerith opened her eyes, suddenly realizing what she had been doing. She backed away from him with her cheeks burning and not daring to look at him.

"Yes, I'm fine" she said finally.

Sephiroth looked at her. He had felt the girl relaxing in his embrace, a clear signal that she had enjoyed his contact, but now it embarrassed her. Just like it had happened to him the previous night.

"Last night" he said to break the awkward silence. "Why did you do it?"

Aerith looked up in surprise. Either she had forgotten last night or didn't expect him to talk about it.

"Oh, that…" she stammered "It was the least I could do."

"But you didn't even try to escape, like another prisoner would have done."

"I… don't know. I really don't know" she shook her head sadly. "Maybe because you helped me" she ventured.

How could this girl be a menace to Mother? She had the chance to run away or even to try to kill him, yet she stayed by his side, nursing him.

"I see" he said quietly and his attention diverted from her eyes to the blue stone. "What kind of Materia is that?"

"This?" her hand went to the pendant. "I don't know."

"But it's yours, isn't it?"

She avoided his gaze once again but this time he knew she was hiding something. Coming from the slums it was more likely that she had found the stone by chance or had retrieved it from a corpse. It had no importance, for they would spend many days together.

"I think I'm all right" she said at last.

"Fine, let's go" but before turning he remembered something. "Take this" he said handing her a little bag of traveling food. "Eat something. We have a long way ahead of us. And…" he paused as he turned, so his silver bangs still covered his face. "Thank you. For last night."

Aerith said nothing and followed him. She didn't know what to say, or maybe actually there wasn't anything to say at all. What he had done and how the stone had reacted to him, something highly unusual, told her that maybe there was more inside him that met the eye. Still, common sense sought its way and she said to herself that her only chance was to pray for her friends to be alright and that they would be searching for her.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

Main idea: Sephy is confused. Aerith is confused. Hope you're not confused!

Yay! Today is the first day of autumn! Well, I might be the only one who likes cold weather, but I really do.


	20. 20 Of Desire and Visions

**Disclaimer:** Again, I don't own any character of Final Fantasy, any of them, much to my dismay (I wish I could own pre-psycho Sephiroth all to me, but it cannot be).

This fanfict has been inspired by the song of Yann Tiersen, "Comptine d'un Autre Étè".

Many thanks to everyone for their encouragement, corrections and ideas.

Please forgive me for the long wait!

Enjoy!

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

**CHAPTER ****20.**

_**Eyes on Me (Piano Version) – Final Fantasy 8 Piano Collection, form Nobuo Uematsu.**_

XXXXXX-X-XXXXXX

When they reached Junon it was nearly at dusk. There was a little fishing village, the original Junon, below a metal structure which blocked the sunlight. Said structure had been built by Shinra when they constructed the underwater Reactor, near the coast. Industrial activities polluted the water and the lack of sunlight made many people of the village move to Upper Junon or to another city, so most inhabitants of the village were old people who still resisted abandoning their hometown.

"I don't understand it" he commented. "Why they keep on living here?"

"It's difficult to abandon one's hometown, even if it's a gloomy place in the slums."

The swordsman only snorted and threw her a mocking glance.

"You really think you can say that? The slums weren't your home place."

She pretended she didn't hear him, as every time someone laughed at her. Sephiroth smirked and directed his attention to the huge metal door to where they were walking. A soldier got out from the sentry box and approached them, his hand extended on an authoritative gesture.

"Halt! No one passes without per… perm…"

Said commanding pose quickly melted away as soon as he saw clearly the man before him. He blinked stupidly and gaped at Sephiroth, totally oblivious of the girl clad in pink behind the black cape.

"We need access to upper Junon" said Sephiroth in a calm voice. "What was that permission you were talking about?"

But the guard blanched and stumbled back, whimpering and whining, to the sentry box, as he had just seen an apparition. The swordsman sighed and shrugged as he punched the entrance's switch.

"I suppose that being given for dead has some advantages" he commented casually as they stepped into the lift. Aerith said nothing. She was too tired from the long walk, her feet ached and she yearned for a hot shower and a clean bed.

When they emerged to the upper level, it boiled with activity, despite the late hours. Red giant banners hung from several buildings, though she couldn't stop to read them because Sephiroth urged her to make haste and he held firmly her hand. While they walked through the main street, she could catch a fragment of a conversation between two men.

"… hasty succession."

"Yeah, after those terrorists killed the late President…"

Sephiroth must have heard them too, because he stopped suddenly. She looked at him and saw that he was smirking disdainfully to one of the banner. This time she could read them, they said: "Welcome, President Rufus Shinra."

"So the spoiled brat has wasted no time. He should be the next, then."

"Next?" she dared to ask.

"Yes" the swordsman looked at her with an icy smile. "I killed his father, should you know, not those from AVALANCHE."

But before she could ask again or he could notice her horrified look he hurried her. There were many people in the streets, but not enough to risk a flight, besides, she could not disengage her hand from his and he forced her to stay very close to him.

At last they stopped at the entrance of a building. Aerith couldn't distinguish one from other, so similar they were. This one had a sign at the door which read "Junon Hotel" in it. Her heart lightened at the prospective of a real bed, but then she blushed when she remembered she would have to stay in close quarters with him.

There was a fat, balding man behind the counter, maybe in his middle forties. He paled as the guard at the gate when Sephiroth addressed him, but he didn't scramble away. Instead, he tried to behave as they were normal visitors, though his stammering betrayed him sometimes.

"Oh, but you're very lucky, sir" he said rubbing his hands nervously. "We have at the moment few unoccupied rooms. You know, with the Welcoming Ceremony and all the day after tomorrow."

"Is Rufus Shinra really going to be here?" asked Sephiroth.

"Why, yes" the man maybe thought that if he kept on talking all will go fine. "After those terrorists killed his father the poor boy had to take the whole Company's control in just a few days and now he's traveling around the world to make himself known among people. Such a shame" he added, shaking his head, "so young and with so much responsibility."

Aerith thought that maybe this was one of those who turned talkative when terrified. Finally, they were given a room at the upper floor, from where they had a clear view of the sea and the omnipresent cannon. There was a king-sized bed on one extreme and, by the windows, there were two armchairs and a table. A lateral door led to the bathroom. She was about to open it when his voice stopped her.

"As you can see, there is no point in trying to escape" he was standing before the closed door, arms crossed and a stern look on his face. "I will go to get supplies. I'll return soon."

He then went out of the room and locked her inside; it was just what she was pleading for silently. Aerith didn't know how much time meant _soon_ to him, so she had no time to waste. It took her a bit to disentangle her knotted mane, but soon she could be inside the tub, enjoying the most relaxing shower she ever took in her life. It felt as if all her worries went down by the drain along with the water and the soap.

Then she grabbed one of the white bathrobes. She realized that they were of the same size and both were too large for her. She chuckled a bit when she saw herself in the mirror: with her hair loosen and wet and that ridiculously oversized robe she looked like a child playing with her mother's clothes. But she didn't mind her aspect at that moment. At last she was clean. She got out from the bathroom to see that Sephiroth hadn't arrived yet.

With another relieved sigh she went to one of the armchairs and dropped in it. She let her head rest on one of its ears while she held her mother's Materia and Ania's pendant in one hand. The sky was darkening outside and few stars began to appear on it. Since she awoke outside of Midgar and had to walk through the fields, only her exhaustion had kept her from looking at them during all nights as she would have liked to do.

And this night would not be different, for she promptly fell asleep, curled in the armchair.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

Sephiroth paced silently along the corridor which led to their room. There had been at least three hours since he left her alone and he hoped that she had finished her business and was already asleep. During those hours he had learned that there was a block in the city, so no ships would leave or enter until Rufus left for Costa del Sol. That left them trapped there for one day and two nights.

Traveling was one thing, but being in close quarters with her was something he didn't look forward to for many reasons. He always had solid beliefs, either when he worked for Shinra or now that he did Mother's biddings. But when he looked at that girl or talked to her all of them shattered and crumbled, and each step they took towards the end of their path made him feel more remorse and guilt, which also filled him with confusion.

She was only a girl and he had to give her up. It was for the Planet's sake.

Quietly, he unlocked the door and stepped into the room. The street lamps outside where the only source of light and he alarmed for a second when he saw the untouched bed, but soon he spotted her sitting by the window.

And all shattered and crumbled again inside him.

He approached her silently. The girl was curled on the armchair, her head resting on one of its ears and her long mane cascading down her shoulders and pooling near her little feet. She was clad in one of the bathrobes; the garment was too large for her petite frame and that made her image even more appealing.

The silver-haired man felt a pang of guilt in his chest along with other feelings. Soon, those other emotions overtook remorse in such a sudden way that he had to avert his eyes from her. He turned and unfastened his leather coat, dropping it on the bed; then he locked himself in the bathroom and undressed completely. Enhanced with Mako or not, son of Jenova or not, there was something he needed desperately at that moment.

A cold shower.

Leaning with both hand on the tiles, he let the icy water pour down his silver mane and his pale skin. Sephiroth even wished that they were on the North Continent, so he could leap into some frozen lake to calm down.

He had never reacted before a woman like he was doing now. In the past he had enjoyed the company of beautiful women but, aside from that, he couldn't really stand their presence. It always looked like they stared at him as if he was some hunting trophy, so he began to despise intimate relationships.

He turned the tap off and reached for a towel. He dried carefully his mane to prevent it from dipping and he put on the spare bathrobe, which fitted him perfectly. Staring back at the mirror, silver hair still wet and few drops adorning his alabaster skin, he looked quite strange clad in white, instead of his usual black leather and metal pauldrons.

He remembered the night when Mother had attacked him. He had thought back then that he would forget it, that he would understand Mother's motives, but days passed and that wound didn't heal. Except when he looked at her.

That girl, he could easily end her life with his bare hands, yet she exerted some kind of influence on him like nobody had done before and from the very moment he saw her inside that crystal cage. He wasn't human, that he knew, then, why those feelings kept on haunting him? Love and compassion were for weaklings, that he had been taught.

Some pupil, who couldn't follow his instruction.

In theory, he should only wait until they found Mother, then the girl would be no more. Then again, a sharp pang of guilt erupted on his chest. He passed his hand before the eyes, in mute frustration. There were so many mysteries around her, but the biggest one was about what she had done to him, why his mind, when left to wander, always returned to her image, her voice, her touch.

He got out from the bathroom, expecting to have awoken her with the ruckus he had made. On the contrary, she was still in the armchair, peacefully asleep. Sephiroth went to remove the bed's covers and again he stood by her, staring at her little form, emotions and thoughts swirling inside him. He closed shut his eyes and sighed; then he opened them again before leaning over the girl and picking her up in his arms with extreme delicacy. She flinched a little but then she snuggled against the soft fabric of his bathrobe. He carried her to the bed, trying to ignore how his heart skipped a beat, and wrapped her in the covers, sitting then by her side, looking at her.

As he brushed away some rebel curls from her face he couldn't help but to recall how he had felt when he awoke in her lap after being unconscious some nights earlier: just as this moment. It wasn't like before, when he had to take that cold shower: that had been raw desire. Now it was something he couldn't give a name, but it carried a certain sense of loss and sadness with it.

She moved her head to the side in her sleep, exposing the softness of her neck and part of her shoulder. That made Sephiroth stand up and back off her.

He grabbed his coat and went into the bathroom again, where he dressed up quickly, almost furiously. Then he went out of the room and locked the door without looking back at her.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

Dawn was near. He had spent the night just perched on the Cannon, staring at the ocean and letting the sea breeze play with his silver mane.

He craved for her, that he couldn't deny any longer, and he didn't want to hand her over.

The weight he felt in his chest each time he thought about the end of their path was eerily familiar, as if he had felt it in a dream, or in another life. The swordsman cursed himself. He always had serious problems to remember his past, but since he met that girl, it seemed like something had snapped inside him. He now recalled things that he was supposed to have heard or seen, but that he couldn't place anywhere in his head.

Sighting heavily, he relaxed the muscles of his back and closed his eyes, trying for the first time to let his mind wander. He was afraid of being assaulted by those images again, but he was too tired to care anymore about it.

_xxxxxxxxxxxx_

_Dim light in a laboratory, but this one had walls of stone. There was a male figure clad in a white lab coat in front of him__ but, somehow, his face was in shadows and he couldn't identify him. He argued with him bitterly, until that figure took out a revolver and shot him square in the chest._

_He felt face first to the ground. Through the door another person entered the little room. This time it was a woman, also clad in a lab coat. She screamed, though his hearing grew dim and the light faded away._

_xxxxxxxxxxxx_

_Liquid._

_He was inside a tank. A woman peered curiously through the thick glass, but he couldn't see clearly her face._

_xxxxxxxxxxxx_

_Lights above him._

_He laid facing the ceiling. The one who shot him was by his side and he still couldn't see him clearly. He tried to move, but he was tied and gagged. He cursed that person and tried to break the bonds as he saw, horrified, how a lid was lowered above him._

_They were burying him alive._

_xxxxxxxxxxxx_

Startled, he opened his eyes.

Again a vision had intruded in his mind, but this time it had been more detailed, not mere flashbacks.

He remembered that little room. It was Shinra's Mansion's basement. He didn't recall anything out of the ordinary concerning that place, except that it was where he knew about his real inheritance.

The swordsman shook his head, chasing away those thoughts. It had to be just a dream, surely. Maybe his concern about it made his mind play tricks on him.

Surely it was.

Sighing again, Sephiroth got up and paced back along the Cannon, returning to the hotel. It was strange how he couldn't stand being at Aerith's side, but it was worse to be apart from her. They didn't notice him when he went down to the port, where a cargo was moored. The place was almost deserted, with only a pair of guards in front of the opened doors of the ship's hold. A thin mist crawled on the ground, giving the place a surreal atmosphere, which joined with the reigning silence, only broken by the guards rubbing their gloved hands or shifting their weight from one foot to the other.

Only two guards were no problem and he could sneak inside the cargo to investigate where they would hide the next day. He was about to move when an icy sensation down his back made his stop.

_She_ was there.

Mother's body was already inside the cargo, waiting for the humans to transport her to the other continent. From there it would be easier to be transported to the North, where the head was.

Sephiroth and Aerith were supposed to do the same, but first he had been told to retrieve some artifact from the jungles to the South and for that purpose he first needed a stone whose owner lived at the Gold Saucer.

But if they stumbled upon her body, she would certainly want to dispose of the girl right on the spot, for she didn't need to be complete in order to absorb the girl's soul.

He felt again that weight in his stomach. It was too early for this, he wasn't prepared, if he had ever been for this. He couldn't give up to her yet. He didn't want to. And he wouldn't.

Luck was on their side; should the body have been conscious, she would have detected them long ago, but it laid in a state akin to hibernation, to save energy.

Silently, he turned around and went back to the hotel as fast as he could but, despite his haste, he opened quietly the door and stepped in.

Aerith was still sleeping. No surprise at all, after the many days of long walk and the nights sleeping with only the sky as a ceiling. Still, she was frowning faintly and Sephiroth mused that she had those nightmares again, something totally natural, after visiting Shinra's labs. He turned on the light and perched on the bed, doubting whether to wake her up or to let her sleep some more.

There was no time to waste, so he gently shook her shoulder. Aerith grunted slightly and her frown deepened before her eyelids cracked a bit, revealing her dazed eyes. Then they flew open and suddenly the girl sat up, backing away from him and closing the bathrobe's collar protectively under her throat, until she finally curled against the headboard. She didn't realize that, in her hasty movements, she had dropped in the mattress both her mother's Materia and the blue pendant.

"What are you scared for?" he asked. "If I wanted to harm you I'd have done it long ago."

She blushed and frowned slightly but said nothing.

"Do I scare you?" he asked. Aerith could not tell if there was morbid humor in that question or true concern.

"You claim to be the son of Jenova" it was one of the few times that she looked at him in the eye. "Of course you scare me sometimes."

Sephiroth snorted, but he wasn't mocking at her. Most people were terrified to admit that he scared them. Maybe they feared he would be mad at them if they said so. It was refreshing to receive some sincerity for a change.

"I need you to get dressed and get ready to depart" he said standing up.

He was apparently about to leave when something caught his eye. Before she could react, he picked a thing from the mattress. She paled when she realized what it was.

"Materia" he commented, lifting the green orb between his long fingers. "But this is smaller than normal one, just like your pendant" his catlike pupils kept on studying the sphere while Aerith held her breath. "What kind of spell does it cast?" he asked finally looking at her.

"I… don't know. I can't make it work."

"Useless materia?" a silver eyebrow was lifted skeptically.

"Please" he eyes were fixed upon the green orb, filled with anxiety. "Please give it back."

"Just give me a reason. You haven't used it, from what I know, but I cannot allow you to have anything that you can use against me."

"But it's the truth!" She raised her voice for the first time since he knew her and her little hands clenched into fists. He even could see a faint glow of anger in her eyes. But after that second of wrath died, her eyes filled again with despair as she bowed her head. "It's… only a memento" she said weakly at last.

How he dared to torment her like that? Just when she had awoken from another night of horrible dreams, there came this man to ask her why her Materia was so precious to her. As if the nightmares weren't enough, she would also have to tell him how her mother died.

The mattress gave away under an extra weight and a black gloved hand entered her vision. It was palm up, holding the Materia. Aerith looked up. There was no trace of mocking on his face.

"You are too expressive to fool me. You held something from me concerning your pendant, but this time you told me the truth. Take it."

The girl hesitated for a moment and then, slowly, she reached for the orb, without tearing her eyes from his. When she had her Materia, she could finally press it against her chest, sighing in relief and sinking back against the headboard.

"Now get dressed" he commanded as he got up again and went to the exit. "I will return soon. And…" he paused before he opened the door. "You don't have to fear from Mother. She won't kill you. I promise."

He left her alone then. Aerith was so perplexed that she didn't notice the faint glow of the blue pendant next to her. Not even when she reached blindly for it and secured it around her neck.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

End of chapter 20.

As you can see, this has double length. Why? That's simple. I could have cut it just after Sephy left the room after the cold shower, but I thought that sometimes cliffhangers are not very good, because one tends to forget what happened the chapter before when the author (authoress in this case) has the bad habit of delaying the postings for too long –_looks sideways-_.

_**Sephiroth:**_ Yeah, yeah, and you gave me the nosebleed of the century with this.

Yes, and you look soooo cute!

_**Aerith:**_ Yes, she's right –_bathrobe's slips and shows a shoulder-_

_**Sephiroth:**__ -tries to block nosebleed with a tissue-_ Vedy fuddy…


	21. 21 Jealousy

**Disclaimer:** Again, I don't own any character of Final Fantasy, any of them, much to my dismay (I wish I could own pre-psycho Sephiroth all to me, but it cannot be).

This fanfict has been inspired by the song of Yann Tiersen, "Comptine d'un Autre Étè".

Many thanks to everyone for their encouragement, corrections and ideas.

Enjoy!

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

**CHAPTER ****21.**

_I was unfulfilled by the constantly overflowing passions_

_If only just for a little while, I want to return to human form._

_**Lust for Blood - Gackt**__**.**_

XXXXXX-X-XXXXXX

When he returned, she was looking through the window to the gathering crowd in the street. Upon hearing the door open she turned to face him. Where there had been plain fear, now he could see a glimpse of doubt in her eyes. Doubt and… relief?

"We are leaving" he said as he approached the girl. She didn't back away. "There is a block at the port, so no ships are leaving until Rufus sails to Costa del Sol, but the airport is free and a Gelnika is taking off in an hour. We are going to sneak inside it."

"Where are we going?"

"We will land near the Gold Saucer, our next destination."

"And then?"

"To another place," he said patiently. "I'm trying to buy time."

"I don't understand."

"There's no time now. We must hurry," he cut out as he turned to open the door.

"I saw him" she said. The swordsman turned to her with a faint frown.

"I saw Tseng out there" she continued. "He was with other Turks. You didn't kill him after all."

"_So that was why she feels relieved?"_ he thought, snorting, but aloud he said: "You are a strange woman, indeed. To show compassion for the one who tried to kill you."

"It's not true," she shook her head. Sephiroth noticed how her voice didn't quaver as every time she talked to him. "Tseng was a good man once, he…" she stopped middle-sentence and her cheeks turned pinkish. "I know something has happened to him."

Such faith in those eyes… He even felt a pang of jealousy listening to her. And somehow he had seen that same look in another place, in another's eyes.

"So," he smirked mockingly, "_once a good man, always a good man_. Is what you really think?"

"Yes," though most times he had mocked at her she had ignored him, this time was different and she wouldn't back away.

"Then," he continued, "you would also say that _once an evil man, always an evil man_, wouldn't you?"

"I… don't know. Sometimes people are not entirely bad, it's just that they didn't have the chance to be good."

Sephiroth could resist no longer and laughed: A short, bitter laugh. Such naivety was refreshing and hurting at the same time.

"_Not the chance to be good,_" he quoted. He was laughing no more. "I really wonder how you could survive outside the labs all this time."

Aerith didn't respond. She only threw an angry look towards the man as he went to open the door for her to go out.

For him, it was better to feel her anger rather than her compassion. The first he could handle, but the second, though it was something he had seen practicing, he never received it and didn't know how to deal with it.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

The street was so crowded it was almost impossible to pass through the people. Sephiroth held firmly her arm and forced her to walk almost glued to his side. That was a dangerous place, for he couldn't allow himself to lose the girl, not so close to Mother's body.

What annoyed him the most was that headache inducing, poor excuse for a march. In addition, a faint tingle in his mind alerted him of Mother's presence. They should get away from there before she was aware of them.

Suddenly, Aerith tore from his grasp and, now she was free, she darted through the crowd. Muttering a curse, the swordsman pursued her. Following the girl with the sight was not difficult, for her pink ribbon stood among the moving crowd. Nonetheless, though she wounded her way slowly due to her lack of physical strength, it wasn't easy for him, either. He couldn't exert too much force for he couldn't afford to draw attention over them. Mother could read human's minds and if a commotion should arise, she would notice the girl and then…

Just when she raised her hand to someone in the crowd he caught her. Sephiroth grabbed her upraised hand and twisted it behind her back as he circled her waist with his other arm. A weak whimper escaped her lips then; she was trembling from the rush of adrenaline of her escape and the fear he caused on her. The girl tried to struggle, but his grip was of steel. Aerith felt as if time has stopped for her. All was abruptly silent around them and all she could hear was her racing heart, his breath on her ear and the cracking of leather.

"Where do you think you are going?" he whispered dangerously to her.

She didn't answer and soon Sephiroth understood the reason of her outburst and the source of the alarm inside him. Following the line of her sight he could catch a glimpse of a blond head with unmistakable messy spikes among the crowd. He clenched his teeth as anger bubbled perilously inside him.

"Do you really think he could save you?" he kept on whispering to her, his lips brushing her ear. "I could crush him with only a hand. Would you like to see it?"

She muffled a chocked gasp. He noticed how she was on the verge of tears and realized that he was exerting too much force on her arm; he lessened his grip on her twisted arm but he pressed her more against him.

"You are coming with me, is that clear?" Aerith didn't respond, so his grip hardened again, making her gasp. "Is that clear?" he repeated.

The girl suppressed a sob and, biting her lower lip, she nodded slightly.

"Good. Now behave or I'll have to kill many people next time you make me chase after you."

The man jerked her in the direction they had been walking before. Now he grabbed her arm firmly, while her forearm was still twisted behind her, forcing her to walk right in front of him. Sephiroth didn't look at her, though he could perfectly sense her despair and fear. And he inwardly questioned himself why he had felt such violent anger before. He was upset with her behavior, but he almost exploded when he saw that boy. Cloud wasn't a match for him and what happened five years before was only an accident; Sephiroth would have never lost in normal conditions. Why, all of a sudden, did he felt now the desire to tear him limb after limb right on the spot?

He should calm down. It wasn't her fault. She didn't know he was indeed saving her: He was the only one who could really stand before Mother. But telling her the truth served no purpose at all, for she would never believe him.

Sephiroth knew he was playing a dangerous game, though not entirely for him. He doubted that Mother could do to him anything beyond his attacks, but he feared for her.

Yes, he felt fear, maybe for the first time in his life, as far as he could remember. He realized how much he had panicked moments before as they walked away from the port and the weight that had settled in his stomach lifted and the chill down his spine faded away.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

Main idea: Sephy is a jealous man.


	22. 22 Caresses

**Disclaimer:** Again, I don't own any character of Final Fantasy, any of them, much to my dismay (I wish I could own pre-psycho Sephiroth all to me, but it cannot be).

This fanfict has been inspired by the song of Yann Tiersen, "Comptine d'un Autre Étè".

Many thanks to everyone for their encouragement, corrections and ideas.

Enjoy!

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

**CHAPTER ****22.**

_You__ face haunts my once pleasant dreams._

_Your voice has chased away all the sanity in me._

_**My Immortal – Evanescence.**_

XXXXXX-X-XXXXXX

They made their way to the airport in silence. At some point, Sephiroth let her walk at his side, but he didn't ease his grip on her wrist. Whether the girl felt pain or not, she struggled not to reveal it, though he still was too upset to even care.

The airport was a restricted military area; they couldn't have passed through the many guards if not for Sephiroth's Manipulate Materia and his strong will. All soldiers were oblivious to the pair's presence until they were securely inside the Gelnika's hold. While she was dragged inside, Aerith wondered how they could manage to avoid contact with the rest of the crew, for a long lasting manipulate spell was almost impossible to cast.

The hold was gigantic and crowded with supplies: crates full of weapons, a helicopter and other things that Aerith could only muse what they were for. Sephiroth kept on walking and led her to the stairs to the upper level. There he went directly to a ladder standing against the far wall.

"Climb," he ordered at last, releasing her arm. The girl let out a sigh of relief and rubbed her bruised limb but she wasn't moving.

"Climb," repeated the swordsman, struggling not to lose his temper once more.

"I… can't," came her response, as color rose to her cheeks.

Then he saw the source of her distress and this time he fought the urge to roll his eyes.

"I won't look," he said tiredly. "I promise."

Finally she got up the ladder and entered the upper room. Unlike she'd expected, it was an ample space where more crates and, surprisingly, several windows provided the necessary light. Strange for a hidden room.

"It's an emergency storeroom," said Sephiroth. How could he have climbed without a sound? "Better find some place to sit down before the motors ignite."

She did as he told her while he closed the trap door. Aerith curled in a corner, facing the direction the plane would take, her arms hidden in her lap. He, on the other hand, remained upstanding, looking through one of the windows.

Aerith didn't say a thing. She felt battered and drained. Having seeing Cloud had lighted up a spark of hope inside her, and she had been jerked back to the harsh reality by that man. He had promised her that Jenova wouldn't harm her. Why, then, didn't he let her go? If she was useful no more to them, why did he keep on restraining her?

Her musing was interrupted by the crescent sound of the plane's motors. Soon they were moving and she understood why he had told her to remain sat down; even Sephiroth had to brace to the wall from time to time to prevent him from falling. But the worst part was the sudden descend once the plane had left the platform. Aerith thought they were falling and, with a small scream, she shot her arms upwards to brace on the crates behind her back. Her movements made him look at her with a frown but, instead of mocking her, his eyes widened in surprise. She didn't understand the source of his reaction and she curled again protectively when he approached and kneeled opposite to her, once the plane had stopped jerking and settled on a steady pace.

"Give me your hand," he said softly. His expression was far from angry. His green catlike eyes had returned to that strange look of sadness which made him more human. "The one that it's injured. Please."

Slowly, she released her arm from her lap and extended it: ugly bruises marked the places where he had exerted pressure. His eyes were full of sorrow as he contemplated what he had done; he got rid of his gloves before taking her extended arm, revealing two pale hands, delicate, yet masculine. And, though they were the calloused hands of a swordsman, his touch was gentle over her fair skin.

Aerith looked up at him, blushing at the delicacy of his caresses along her arm and forearm. The silver haired man was concentrated on her injuries while he whispered a curative spell. When all the bruises had disappeared, he interlaced his fingers with hers as he drew her hand to his mouth and kissed its back, closing his eyes and keeping his lips gently bruising her soft skin for a long moment.

The girl's mind screamed for her to get away from him, though she could do anything but to look at those long fingers intertwined with hers and gently stroking her forearm. Strangely, she had expected his touch to be cold, but his hands were warm. She felt dazed, not only for his change of behavior, but also because the gentle touch of his soft lips made her shiver and feel weak, not from fear, but from something she wouldn't dare to even think about.

He finally released his hand, but he didn't stand up when she curled again.

"I'm sorry," he said. "For harming you."

"Why do you do this?"

He turned his head to the side so his silver bangs covered his eyes. He snorted bitterly before answering to her.

"You wouldn't understand."

"Even though you claim that Jenova won't kill me, you still force me to accompany you. That's the only thing I do not understand."

"I am the only one who can stand against her."

"Are you opposing her?"

"No!" he then turned to her, his green catlike eyes filled with anxiousness. "I'm not opposing her! She just wants to cleanse the Planet and I agree with that, but I also think that there should be other ways to do so."

Aerith shook her head sadly.

"You are mistaken. She tried to destroy the Planet once. She almost killed all the Cetran tribes and many humans too."

"That was what the Cetra say. They were her enemies."

"If I am your enemy, why don't you want Jenova to kill me?"

He averted again his face. That was the main question and he knew the answer, but he was too afraid to even think about it.

"If I'm of no use anymore, at least you could have let me go to my friends."

"Your friends…" he snorted "If you get away from me, Mother will chase after you and your friends will be no match for her, that I assure you. If they have been foolish enough to take that ship, then maybe they will never see the land again."

She widened her eyes.

"What?"

Sephiroth sighed loudly and got up, pacing away from her.

"Mother's body was inside the cargo that Rufus was going to take. That's why I chose this airship."

"But, I don't understand."

"She doesn't need to be complete to dispose of you," he said without turning to her. "I knew she was on that ship; luckily she was in a state of hibernation, so I kept you away from her before she could detect you."

Aerith didn't say a thing. A part of her, her rational being, said that she couldn't rely on that man. The other part said otherwise.

"Cloud," she muttered. "What will happen to him?"

"That I don't know," he answered. This time he did look at her, his expression totally blank. "If he went inside that cargo, probably Mother will sense him. What's beyond that, I can only imagine."

Aerith felt her eyes burning. This wasn't fair. Cloud was alive and searching for her. And perhaps he would die for her, without even knowing so. She hid her face on her arms. It was an old habit to prevent anyone from seeing her crying. The rustling of leather told her he was moving. Then metal against metal.

"I'll be back shortly," he told her before closing again the trap door.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

Solitude gave her freedom to cry all she wanted. She couldn't shake the guilt from her mind. Maybe her friends had pursued them to rescue her and now they might be already dead.

There had been only three other times when she cried so bitterly, and all were tied to death, in one way or another: When her mother died at the train station; when Tseng joined the Turks, he died as the friend she had known; and finally, when Zack talked to her before returning to the Lifestream. Those were the moments when she had felt lonelier.

Now she was truly alone with the sole company of Sephiroth. She couldn't help to feeling uncomfortable in his presence. It was not entirely his fault, for he had tried not to mistreat her. Besides, she could sense something within him, a deep pain and sorrow which sometimes could be seen in his eyes.

Aerith wiped away her tears. She had to be strong. Now she couldn't run away from him, for his vigilance would be redoubled. Jenova needed her and, though he had said that she would not be harmed, the girl doubted that he could stand against that abomination's wishes.

The trap door opened silently and her captor appeared carrying a bundle under one arm. Sephiroth closed the entrance and walked to her.

"This is for you," he said kneeling again at her side and offering the package to her. It was a standard military ration.

Aerith took it as he stepped away, but she left it by her, instead of opening it.

"You haven't eaten for almost a day," he said. "You must be starving."

The girl shook her head slowly without looking at him. Despite all her efforts not to show any weakness before him, now she was the living image of despair.

"Does it affect you so much?" he asked.

She raised her eyes to him. It wasn't a malicious question. He seemed truly puzzled at her reaction.

"Of course it affects me," she said in a quavering voice. "They were my friends."

"I see," he said, as he turned again to the window.

There were long moments of silence between them; only the motor's hum filled the air. Aerith looked at him. His silver bangs covered partially his face, so only the mouth was visible. She wondered how things would have changed so drastically as to find herself under his protection.

Finding nothing more to do or to think about, she stood and walked slowly to him. The man turned slightly his head towards her, still not enough for her to see his eyes. Since he said nothing, she stood by his side also looking through the window.

There was a clear sky and, below them, an azure ocean glittered under the morning sun.

"_If you look into them seems like you can see the sky, doesn't it?"_

"_If it's that sky I'm looking at, then I'm not scared at all."_

That fragment of a conversation slipped through her mind all of a sudden. She remembered Zack each time she looked at the clear sky, but those words seemed to have been forgotten; maybe on purpose, to avoid the pain. But right now she didn't feel such pain.

"Maybe you shouldn't rely on people so much," he said.

"That's a horrible thing to say," she retorted.

"Is that so?" he looked at her with an arched eyebrow.

She raised her eyes to him again. How could this man be so cold?

"People need each other to survive. That's how we keep going."

"We?" he chuckled. "But you are not human, how can you consider yourself part of their world?"

"I… I know I'm different, but it doesn't change a thing. People are people, whether they are Humans or Cetra."

"But they know you are different," Sephiroth thought that, if she couldn't believe in his acts, she would see his point by other means. "Don't tell me that they never looked at you with fear for your abilities."

"No, they didn't. They only considered me special for being capable of growing flowers in the slums, but everyone treated me nicely back there."

"So you say: back in the slums. But tell me, what about the other place?"

Aerith took a step backwards.

"What place?" she asked, though it was clear that she knew the answer.

"You told me you grew up in the labs."

She nodded.

"Never knowing about the light of the sun," he carried on, looking again at the ocean, "or the fresh air. Or the many sounds of the city beyond those thick walls, until you were released. Always dreaming of something different, of knowing the places you heard others talking about."

"Stop it," she whispered, "please."

He felt silent then. After some moments, it was Aerith's voice which sounded tremulously.

"You don't know how it was," she said trying to fight back the tears. "It was like living in a nightmare. My mother was by my side to chase away the horror of being at that place, even when she surely was more terrified than me. But still…"

"I happen to know it all too well. I was born there."

Aerith looked at him with surprise. He only chuckled mirthlessly.

"More correctly, I was produced in a lab. From Jenova's cells. Does it surprise you?"

"You… you were alone there?"

There was curiosity now in her eyes. And something more; it was the same thing he saw in her when he came around from his last attack.

"Alone," he snorted. "Though I can't truly recall all the events from my past I know I wasn't really alone, there was Hojo. There was also another man, a good one, but one day he disappeared."

Aerith said nothing as she lowered her gaze. As much as their friends loved her, they could never understand how she really felt when remembering her past. The sheer terror to the examination table, only eased by her mother's presence later in their cubicle. She remembered how the long absences of her mother made her fear that she would never see her again. What would have been to be alone?

"Aerith," he said softly. She raised her eyes to meet his. "I wanted to save you because we are the same thing. No matter if you are a Cetra and I'm not. We're considered the same by humans: just strangers, odd beings whom they are afraid of."

"That's not true," said Aerith. "After my mother died I had another mother. She knew of my abilities and she protected me from Shinra. She was never afraid of me. And we are not the same, as much as we share the same past, because I could never kill any innocent person, like you did."

Unlike she had expected, he just snorted again.

"Why did you do that? Why did you kill so many people back at Nibelheim?" she asked.

"Because I'm an evil man, didn't they tell you?" he said, his voice full of sarcasm.

"That's not a reason."

The swordsman looked at her in silence. She felt fear. Maybe she had pushed him too far this time.

"You'd never believe me anyway," was his answer.

"Try me."

He looked again at the sea in silence, letting his silver bangs cover his eyes. After some moments, Aerith decided that he wasn't going to talk. But before she could move, his voice startled her.

"As his son, I carry her cells. Since she's in my body, she can control me at times, but only when her power has reached a certain level. Five years ago she told me that she wanted to purify the Planet. I agreed with her, but then she told me that she needed to gather souls. I offered her all the corrupted souls of Shinra, but she wanted the ones from the village. I didn't want to kill them. Why assassinate innocent people in order to purify the Planet? I didn't see the point. And then, she took over my body.

"There were _my_ hands which wielded Masamune and it was _my_ face that everybody saw, but it wasn't me. I was ashamed by what she had done, but she told me not to worry, because those people were going to be one with the Planet and they would aid our plan."

There was a long silence then. Aerith didn't know whether to believe him or not. It could have been a false story but, in the other hand, why would he do something like that?

"Then… you really didn't kill them?"

Sephiroth turned his gaze upon her. He was smirking, though no joy reflected on his eyes.

"You are mistaken. I killed them because I wasn't strong enough to oppose her. It's a sin I let be committed and maybe one day I'll have to pay for it. But for now" he turned again to the window, "I'll assist her on purifying the Planet."

"You saw her killing innocent people and you still don't believe me."

She had a point. And she hit precisely the spot he had been thinking about all along. Still, he refused to believe it.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

End of Chapter 22!

I know, the end looks chopped, but I didn't know how to cut it better.

_**Sephiroth:**_ Only a kiss in the hand?!

Yeah, and be glad that she didn't kick you in the crotch after what you did.

_**Sephiroth:**_ -_pouts-_ But I already said that I'm sorry.

_**Aerith: **_Aw, don't worry -_kisses him in the cheek-_

I wonder how can you be so kind…


	23. 23 Of Worms and Lovebirds

**Disclaimer:** Again, I don't own any character of Final Fantasy, any of them, much to my dismay (I wish I could own pre-psycho Sephiroth all to me, but it cannot be).

This fanfict has been inspired by the song of Yann Tiersen, "Comptine d'un Autre Étè".

I didn't translate the Rammstein song, just found it on the web.

Many thanks to everyone for their encouragement, corrections and ideas.

Enjoy!

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

**CHAPTER ****23.**

_I'm going to build you a house_

_Every stone will be a tear, __and you'll never move out again_

_**Stein um Stein**__** – Rammstein (translation from the original)**_

XXXXXX-X-XXXXXX

The atmosphere in the bar was silent enough to calm her headache. That march had been funny to hear, but after ten minutes of repeating it turned quite tiring to hear.

She was lucky that Rude didn't leave her alone with Tseng. He had been silent almost all the time since they found him collapsed at the Mithril Mines' exit. He won't explain what happened, but it was clear that Sephiroth had attacked him. Why their boss was still alive was something she couldn't explain. Sephiroth had killed the President and seemed to have a grudge against all Shinra. Given the chance, why not kill them too?

"Oi, Elena!" called a joyful voice.

She turned around. Reno came into the bar with a wide grin plastered over his face. When he reached the counter, he threw an arm around her shoulders and hugged her.

"Waiter, a beer for me!" was the first thing he said "Yo, Elena, why so serious?"

"I think I have a migraine" she answered. "Wouldn't your girlfriend be angry if she saw you doing that?"

"Nah! It's ok" he said, though he retracted his arm to grab the mug of beer. "She knows I love her her and only her."

She chuckled and then she felt someone moving near her. It was Tseng, who had slammed his empty glass in the counter and was already on his feet.

"Her migraine would get better if you weren't pestering her" he spat out all of a sudden as he headed for the exit.

Elena was speechless at his icy words. Even though they weren't meant for her she felt as if he had slapped her. Reno and Rude kept on drinking in silence after Tseng had gone. The redhead pretended that he hadn't heard, but she could see in his eyes that his anger was rising.

"I'm sorry" she murmured as she lowered her gaze. "I shouldn't have…"

"It's not your fault," interrupted Reno.

She looked at him. The redhead was in a sour mood all of a sudden, his hands holding the mug and his head bowed. Rude came to sit on the stool next to her; she observed he still wore his sunglasses even indoors.

"He's right" said the dark skinned man with his deep voice.

"Yeah, but each time I open my mouth I screw it."

"He was only waiting for an excuse" said Reno looking at her with a smug smirk which lightened his expression.

Elena smiled back, though she still felt bad for him. Tseng always bullied them, but especially Reno. Since she became a Turk she suspected that the redhead's attitude was only a façade and now she could see it was true.

"Have you learnt something about the prey?" asked Rude, waking her from her musing.

"The lovebirds or the faggot?"

"Whichever you want to tell us first" said Rude.

"Lovebirds?" asked Elena, bewildered and almost angry with him, though her voice was still a whisper "Why did you choose that codename? He abducted her, for Shiva's sake!"

"I've seen things…" he sing-sung with a smirk. "Remember the camera I put at the suite?"

Elena rolled her eyes and grunted. So his plan was a success. Reno had set up a trap for them, making the only hotel at the city give them that concrete room, should they have asked for one. If they had wanted to lodge at any other place, they would have been redirected to where they had finally spent the night.

"Hey, hey, I didn't say it was a dirty thing!" he protested and then he chuckled. "C'mon! I'm not a voyeur!"

"We know that," said Rude patiently, "what did you find out?"

"That he has the hots for her, yet he doesn't dare to get near, yo" half-laughed Reno as he took another sip of his beer.

"Reno…"

"Ok, ok. Now, seriously. They didn't talk much at the room, except he promised her that his mother won't harm her, that he will protect her. Really, he's quite the gentleman with her, yo."

"He… said that?" asked Elena.

"Yeah, he said that. You ought to see the tape, girl. He appears only with a bathrobe at some point, yo."

Trying to ignore the influence of that last comment on Elena (her cheeks had turned a bright shade of scarlet), Rude continued questioning.

"What then?"

"They left the city, but they aren't in the ship. The airport wasn't blocked, so maybe they sneaked into a plane. And for the worm, he's not here, as we thought, yo."

Rude was silent for a moment. As long as they could keep track of them there was no problem. Tseng didn't have to know where they were. He didn't say anything about the attack, but Rude suspected that he had been the one to begin the fight, knowing how he was trying to hunt the girl down.

"Do you think…?" said Elena hesitantly. "Do you think that maybe Sephiroth wants to save her?"

"Dunno" answered Reno with a shrug. "Why do you care?"

"I find it strange. The way Palmer described him, he should be nothing more than a blood-thirsty ghost. And yet you say that he's in love with the girl."

"_To have the hots_ is not the same as _to be in love_, yo" corrected the redhead. "He sure wants her, I know it. He looked at her like a hungry Nibel Wolf, yo."

"Palmer is just a weakling" said Rude. "We knew Sephiroth before the incident."

"Not personally, but we could get near him."

"He was rather cold and silent, but he wasn't a bloodthirsty monster."

"It was a real pity what happened, yo."

Rude nodded at that and the two Turks drank at the same time, remaining silent after that. Elena watched the exchange wide eyed.

"Wait…" she said. "What…?"

"Well, gotta go, yo" said Reno as he got to his feet and patted her shoulder. "See ya!"

"Hey!" she tried to call, but the redhead was already gone. She huffed, quite disappointed.

"Don't worry," said Rude without looking at the door. "He's chasing a worm."

"How do you know?"

"Reno is quite good at finding out information about people. I know he's after something."

"But he didn't say a thing."

"That's because he wants all the fun for himself," said Rude with a smirk. "It's personal for both of us, but for him the most. He entered the Turks when he was just a parentless brat from the slums. Tseng was like a father to him since then."

"I see," she murmured. "Rude," she began, as she didn't know how to continue. "Do you really think he could like the girl?"

"I don't know. I don't have the slightest idea about if they could establish such bond and what would happen after that."

"We didn't read his file," said Elena. "Maybe he suffered the same thing as Tseng."

"Maybe," he ventured. "But right now we can't go back to Midgar, our spy is waiting for us at the Golden Saucer. You know we need to set things up."

He began to get to his feet as a silent signal that they should go out, but Elena remained in her seat.

"Rude," she called without turning her head.

"Yes?"

"What if… what if he's not the bad guy after all?" she asked, still looking at her glass. "I mean, he killed the President and freed Jenova but, what if they messed him up too?"

"That's not our business," he simply said. "We only follow orders."

"Yeah," she sighed, getting on her feet at last and following him. "Because it's our job."

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

He hadn't planned taking vacations at Costa del Sol, but sometimes one couldn't plan some things, and that was something he hated. He even had aversion to the word _fate_. It was so unscientific and ridiculous. Universe was ruled only by scientific rules.

There was nothing more.

As he walked that night to his isolated apartment he couldn't help but to chuckle, remembering how silly President Shinra sounded when he talked about his destiny as a world dominator. And his _fate_ was cut down by a single sword's stroke. Sephiroth's sword, no less, if one could rely on what that stupid Palmer said about him being alive and carrying with him the Cetran specimen.

How ironic that his own son made his bidding, though the boy never knew anything about their parentage and always looked down on him. There was something he had to be grateful to Crescent, and it was her vanity, choosing the genetics so their son had only her facial features. That way the boy could never sum two and two. Of course there was something that she hadn't planned, and it was the interaction with Jenova's genes. It was of no importance, whatsoever, for she never saw the boy, not even once. He had seen to it. He would never understand why that woman couldn't get rid of those primal instincts. She was a scientist, for crying out loud! Knowledge didn't need emotions; it needed to put them aside to analyze things from a neutral point of view.

He opened the door and stepped inside without turning the light on. He didn't need to do it, since he knew exactly where all the things were placed.

Something was amiss.

There was a _smell_. It smelled like tobacco. Nonsense. He maintained his home devoid of any scent.

He heard something behind him and the smell grew stronger, but a sudden pain in his head prevented him from turning around.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

His head throbbed and buzzed. He opened his eyes slowly, for his eyelids seemed to weight more than usual, and he realized that he was still at his apartment. It was still dark outside, or the blinds had been lowered. The lights were on and he was tied to a chair.

He jerked his head up to see his surroundings. The furniture had been pushed against the walls creating an empty space, save for a table near him, and the light he sensed before opening his eyes was a desk lamp aimed directly at his face.

"Good morning, Doc. Did you sleep well?"

He could recognize that careless tone. Damned redhead brat; he should have put him to sleep before quitting Shinra.

"Oh, what's wrong honey?" said Reno, approaching the scientist so he could see the Turk's face. Hojo simply scowled at him. "You forgot to say goodbye to the Company and I thought to throw a surprise party just for you, yo" he marked the last sentence tapping his EMR on his shoulder.

"You cannot touch me!" snarled the scientist.

"Not that I want to, yo" replied Reno. "But right now I have a job and I need your collaboration, whether you want it or not."

"Rufus promised he wouldn't chase after me," said Hojo. "He'll have your head for this."

The Turk threw his head back and laughed briefly, though with no humor.

"The new President is too occupied trying to make everyone around him shit their pants to care about a deserter. This is kinda personal, yo. Now, we're gonna play a game" he continued taping his EMR on his shoulder carelessly as he strode around the room.

Hojo had serious difficulties trying to follow him due to the harsh light. He should maintain his calm. Those were cheap tricks to intimidate him. He surely wouldn't harm him, he was far too valuable for the Company, even outside of it.

"So, tell me, doc," Reno continued in his laid-back voice as he stood in front of him. Then he leaned over him and said tone grew darker. Even his aqua eyes obscured, maybe foretelling the storm that was approaching. "What the heck have you done to my boss?"

"Ah, specimen Tseng, I presume" said Hojo with a smirk. After those seconds of doubt he had discovered the boy's weakness and his brain was racing, thinking about how he could use that to his advantage.

Something hard struck his face. He tasted blood.

"That's not the answer I'm seeking. Oh, I forgot to tell you the rules," the playfulness of his voice only aided to make it more menacing, "I ask you a question and I want a response. If I don't like what you're telling me, I beat you. We have plenty of time, a Cure Materia and a big stock of ether."

Hojo didn't respond. He should have carried on with the emotionless program with all the Turks, but he hadn't had time. Tseng was only a sample and all he had achieved was to invert his personality. Sephiroth was very easy to manipulate, due to Jenova's cells.

"You've been messing up with him, haven't you?" said Reno. "Why?"

Hojo chuckled.

"Emotions are unnecessary things for scientists and soldiers. The first ones need to maintain clarity, the second ones," he scowled, "they are just pawns, just servants. They don't need to feel or to think, only to obey. Why do you seek to restore your boss' personality, anyway?" he smirked "Has he become your love interest over the years?"

He felt another hit, this time in his stomach. It knocked off the air of his lungs.

"Bad answer, doc."

He coughed, and blood stained his pristine lab coat.

The interrogatory was long, or that how it seemed to Hojo. After the fists came the EMR. Reno had an exhaustive knowledge about human anatomy, and knew exactly where the discharges were to be applied to cause the maximum pain. The scientist howled and screamed, but no words left his lips.

"I won't tell you anything," he stammered after the last round of discharges.

To his surprise, the redhead turned around and went outside the circle of light. He returned promptly, though, holding a small bundle. He undid it in front of Hojo and the scientist paled.

Inside the package there was a syringe and a small bottle. He _knew_ what that liquid was. His eyes widened in terror as Reno filled the syringe and verified that no air was inside it. Then he strode slowly towards him, the filled syringe upraised.

"You know what's inside this, don't you?" asked Reno.

Hojo tried to swallow but his mouth was dry.

"Yep, you guessed," continued the Turk merrily. "It's the infamous _Termite Poison_. You know what it does to the body, don't you? In a small quantity it only causes a slight ulcer and loss of vision, among other things, but they're not permanent. Once you surpass a certain amount the effect is permanent and almost equal to a terminal cancer, and only a very skilled doctor can identify it, though in those cases the antidote is futile" he chuckled ominously and began to look at the syringe as if it was some rare jewel. "I never surpassed that amount at an interrogatory. I wonder…"

Then he looked back at Hojo. The scientist had had time to compose a little and now tried to look menacingly at his captor, but his perspiration betrayed him.

Reno just roared with laugh at him.

"Oh man, you're sweating like a pig, yo! What's wrong, gramps?"

"Let me go right now!" said Hojo. "Don't think Rufus won't hear about this!"

"What do you think he will do? You messed him up too, just like you did to my boss."

"You are a brainless brat. Do you think a simple injection can cure them? There's no antidote for them! There's not even a treatment…!"

His words were cut out by a needle pointing painfully at his neck.

"I don't buy it," hissed the Turk. "But if it's true, then you deserve the worst, yo. No one messes with the Turks without suffering. I'll make your death as long as possible."

Since the man did not respond, Reno proceeded to bent forward his neck in an almost painful angle, leaving the back exposed. Just when the point of the needle touched the skin Hojo reacted.

"Wait!"

"Some last words, doc?"

"Without me you cannot cure them! I know how to make them return to their former selves!"

Reno released his head for him to talk properly. Given the circumstances, the man could be broken already, though no one could say for sure when referring to Hojo. The man had an uncanny ability to mask his feelings, if he had any.

"Start talking already. But hear this: If you try to trick me" he waved the syringe in front of his face, "I'll hunt you down, I'll find you and I'll show you all my personal repertory of tortures; and if I can't, I'll make sure that others do that for me. Is that clear, doc?"

Hojo scowled at him again, but nodded.

"Good, now we can talk like civilized people, yo."

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**


	24. 24 Forgotten Ways

**Disclaimer:** Again, I don't own any character of Final Fantasy, any of them, much to my dismay (I wish I could own pre-psycho Sephiroth all to me, but it cannot be).

This fanfict has been inspired by the song of Yann Tiersen, "Comptine d'un Autre Étè".

Many thanks to everyone for their encouragement, corrections and ideas.

Enjoy!

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

**CHAPTER ****24.**

_Soft blue horizons _

_reach far into my childhood days _

_as you are rising _

_to bring me my forgotten ways._

_**On Your Shore – Enya.**_

XXXXXX-X-XXXXXX

The weather in Costa del Sol was a lot warmer than in Junon. It was not surprising that it had become the main destination for vacation among people of all social status.

The cargo hadn't arrived yet to port, and that gave them time to flee to their next destination. While Sephiroth climbed the stairs to the main street, Aerith remained at the bottom, looking at the sea. The man sighed and returned at her side, grabbing her wrist and making the girl look at him.

"We have to move on," he commanded, though his tone was far from that.

"But…"

"If they are alive," he said, though he highly doubted that, "you'll see them again. If not, it's no use to wait for them. And she'll get you."

That last statement made her move. It wasn't necessary for him to drag her around, for she followed him willingly, but still he didn't let go of her wrist.

He noticed several townsfolk staring at the pair when they emerged from the port, but they returned to their business immediately, seemingly not caring too much about the pair.

They left the port village and followed the road to the Corel Mountains. It was still a trafficked way, but people didn't use to venture into the Mountains, for monsters had been spotted and even attacked people. It took them two days to left the green fields behind and arrive at the Mountains. An old man warned them about the perils of the mountain road, but Sephiroth just ignored him and kept on walking.

"Shouldn't we listen to him?" asked Aerith.

"You're secure by my side. These monsters aren't too powerful."

They kept on walking, climbing the narrow path, with Sephiroth always taking her hand to help her. At the end of their ascension the path went abruptly downhill and they could get an ample view of the Corel Reactor, placed in a narrow valley. From there they would continue their way to the city of Corel, as Sephiroth told her.

Walking in silence gave her time to ponder over all that she had been thinking over since that night, when Sephiroth had collapsed and she used Ania's stone to calm his pain. In its bluish depths something had reacted to the contact and she could sense it. The old woman's spirit couldn't communicate with her in that state since she wasn't the rightful receiver, but Aerith had sensed within it some sort of emotion, as if the woman's spirit was happy.

She tried to deny it. It couldn't be him. Ania told her that the receiver had a warm and gentle soul, which craved for love and, at the same time, had a lot to return.

It couldn't be this man.

But, what about the silver haired boy who was said to visit her? How many silver haired men were in this world?

That question didn't pop out in her mind until that moment. She didn't realize how shocked she was at the possible implications until she heard a deep voice which woke her up from her reverie.

"What's the problem?" he asked. "Are you tired?"

She looked up to see him standing at her side, a questioning look in his face. She blushed when she became conscious of her zoning out.

"It's nothing" she stammered, shaking her head.

"We should walk faster," he insisted. "Time is on the essence."

She obeyed with a nod and continued to walk behind him. She didn't know how, but a question escaped from her lips.

"Why haven't you asked about my stone?"

He halted and looked at her with mild surprise.

"I was curious about what you could do with that," he said. "But if you are so anxious to tell me, I won't stop you."

She wasn't expecting that reaction, and her voice faltered a little when she talked.

"Back in Midgar, there is an old church where flowers grow," she began as they resumed their walking. "It happens because it's a sacred place and it's easier for souls to appear there. One day a woman's soul appeared and gave me this stone. She told me that it was a gift for a loved one and asked me to deliver it since she couldn't approach him, and I accepted."

"And that's the story?" he asked.

"Sort of," she said timidly.

He snorted.

"Have you ever realized that no one, and I mean no one, can see dead people?"

"And, have you forgotten that I'm a Cetra?" she answered boldly, without thinking.

He looked at her questioningly and she flinched.

"So, that's the power of the Cetra? You can speak to the Planet and to the souls which inhabit the Lifestream?"

"That's the power my mother showed me."

"I see."

They were silent again for a while. Aerith felt a little relieved, for what had happened was a little step towards her goal.

The pair reached a hanging bridge. It looked stable enough to pass without peril but, still, Sephiroth had to grab Aerith's hand to give her enough security to cross. Despite of that, she was trembling like a leaf when they reached the other extreme.

He looked at her, slightly amused at her intend to surpass her fear. Maybe speaking would prove useful to make her forget the bridge.

"Tell me," he said. "Did you see many souls back at that church?"

He avoided intentionally the word _ghost_.

"No. Only the people I knew."

"And, did you happen to know the woman who gave you the pendant?"

"I didn't, but I used to bring flowers to her tomb since she had no family who would do that."

She bite her lips before the next words got out from her mouth.

"They said she rescued a boy from the street when he was very little and that he came to visit her quite often when he was older, and that boy had long silver hair."

"So?"

"Was it you?"

"Sorry to tell you," he answered calmly, "but I don't remember being outside the laboratory in my childhood, nor I remember any old woman to have been so kind to me."

"But it must be you!" she insisted. "You have silver hair. How many silver haired people do you know?"

It took a little to answer her. His mane was unique in the entire world, from all he knew.

"Explain to me why I do not remember anything" he demanded, sure that she would be silent this time.

"Jenova can trick the mind," Aerith answered easily. "She could read our memories and deceive us with false images of our dead people. Please," she said, coming to a halt, "please, listen to me. What if you were that boy?"

Sephiroth also stopped, but he didn't turn when he talked to her, his voice edged with tiredness.

"Aside from rumored appearances, what makes you think I'm that person?"

"When you fell that night and I eased your pain, she recognized you. I felt her joy. Jenova took over your body, why wouldn't she also change your memories?"

"That's enough!" he hissed, turning around and making her jump back.

Aerith hadn't seen him so furious since he spotted Cloud among the crowd at Junon. She held her breath until he turned again and they made the rest of the walking to the town in silence.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

Sephiropth was highly surprised at the view. Though Corel had never been popular for its wealth, this vision was desolating beyond words. The landscape had changed drastically since his last visit. He remembered it as a little mining town, but now there were was nothing more than a shanty town placed in the way of the obsolete railway. Piles of debris and metal waste lay scattered everywhere, when they were not parts of the little shacks and improvised stalls; fires helped people to light the settlement in the cloudy dusk, for the electric lamps were not enough.

People stared at them as they made their way to the Ropeway station, but Sephiroth didn't stop his stride until they reached the transport just in time, for it started to rain heavily. Now the outside it was pitch black and the only source of light was the Ropeway's. There were plenty of seats, facing each other in rows of two with a dividing corridor, and an empty zone where one could travel just standing up.

The Ropeway began its noisy way towards the Golden Saucer. Aerith sat by a window, but still she looked back at Corel until the rain obscured the poor lights and fires went out. Then she was left looking at the window while raindrops drawn serpent paths along the glass.

Sephiroth didn't sit by her side; he stood in the free-seat space, pretending he looked through the window, but watching at her instead through the faint window's reflex. He felt sorry for having treated her so roughly, though he tried to conceal it.

Maybe he could set her free at the Golden Saucer. He could rent her a room at the hotel until her friends came.

Because they were coming behind them.

He knew they were alive. Back at the plane, when he had gone away from their hiding place again, he felt it. Someone had wounded Mother, more in her pride than in her body, and that agony resounded within him. He wasn't happy, and he was regretful at the slight relief he felt when he realized that Mother would be slowed down, and that they could take their own path without her finding them.

The facts that Aerith's words still rung in his ears and that he felt a nagging feeling at the corner of his mind made him nervous, and that uneasiness made him furious. With him barely able to remember more than loosen images from his youth, hers was the most plausible and logic explanation. He didn't want to recognize it, even to himself, but he was afraid of the implications. What if he had been a normal human? What if he had a normal life just like any other child?

He closed his eyes in mute frustration. The sense of familiarity that girl emanated was far too strong to mistake it for something different. The lullaby she had sung many nights ago, her story and the visions he kept on having since he had touched that stone, which were more frequent and vivid with each step they took towards their goal.

Sephiroth turned and went to where she was, sitting opposite her with his arms and legs crossed. She looked at him with mild surprise, but then she averted her eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said.

She only sighed.

"I couldn't help it," he continued. Suddenly, the raindrops' paths in the window were more interesting than her saddened face.

"I shouldn't have insisted," she murmured. "It's something very serious. I should be the one apologizing."

"It's just that…" he stopped middle sentence. Sephiroth felt like there was a think curtain covering all. How could he tell her that he was deadly afraid of what was behind it?

"It's hard to believe," she finished for him.

He nodded slowly.

"I cannot say that I can believe what you say, but I'd like you to tell me more."

"About what?"

"About that woman."

Aerith took a deep breath and began to tell the story. Still, she didn't look at him as it unfolded.

"I never met Ania," she began. "Not personally. I knew of her because one day, while I was bringing flowers to the tomb of my mother's husband, I noticed a white tombstone with no flowers. People told me that it was the tomb of a woman who died one year before I arrived in the slums, and that she had no family who could tend her grave. That saddened me, and I promised her that I would bring flowers to her grave whenever I could.

"They also told me that, many years ago, she rescued a lost child from the street. The boy had silver hair and lived in her house for a time, until Turks appeared to bring him back to Shinra. Years later that boy reappeared and visited her, until they sent him away for a time and she fell ill. When the boy was back they said he could only tend her on her dying bed. Then nobody knew anything more about that boy. It was only a rumor, but that boy was said to wear a SOLDIER uniform the last time he visited her, though others say that he was wearing normal clothes at her funeral."

She looked at him timidly. He was still looking at the glass window and sat with his legs crossed, but he had brought a gloved fist to his lips and was shaking his head slightly.

"_Why __can't I remember?"_ he thought, now holding his brow with his hand, as if a great pain has seized him all of a sudden. _"It's ridiculous."_

Aerith gaped at him. He looked… different. There wasn't anything left of the rage that he had displayed hours ago. His face was drawn with frustration and… insecurity?

"Maybe it's too difficult to remember some parts of your childhood," she said.

"You don't understand," he said. The look in his eyes was heartrending when he finally spoke. "Save for loosen images, I can barely recall anything about my former life."

"What can you remember?" she asked softly.

"The laboratory," he said, looking again at the glass. "Hojo and his experiments on me. I can remember the war. I knew I was in many places but, when my mind tries to conjure an exact image of what I did in those places… I just can't."

"What about your companions?"

"I was always alone, from what I know."

"That was not what I was told."

"What?" Sephiroth looked at her, alarmed.

She didn't look at him, though, when she spoke of her past.

"Five years ago, I met a man. He was in SOLDIER, just like you, and he was going to be promoted to First Class. He once told me about you and the ones who were also First Class. Surely you had to meet him, his name was Zack Fair."

"I don't remember anyone being also a First Class. Are you sure he wasn't a poser?"

"Tseng told me he was telling me the truth," she bowed her head a little. "When he hadn't changed."

"And where is him?"

"He… died a year ago. He was one of the few souls that came to visit me," she smiled sadly. "He said he had died like a hero, just like he wanted all his life. At least he died happily."

"I only remember Cloud Strife as a First Class," Sephiroth said that name through clenched teeth. "He was promoted shortly before we were sent to Nibelheim."

"Yeah, Cloud."

She had befriended Cloud and Tifa easily and yet there was something about the young man that made her shiver. The same rank, the same giant sword, even the same pose and way of talking. But it didn't matter, for they might be dead.

She sighed unintentionally, drawing Sephiroth's attention.

"What's the matter?"

Aerith looked at him and shook her head.

"It's nothing," she murmured before she lowered her eyes.

She didn't know whether they were alive or not. Maybe he should tell her.

No. That would make her want to return to them.

"You know?" she said casually. "One of them was a big dark skinned man. He had a beautiful little daughter. He trusted me to protect her and I had to let her with my mother, so they could escape while Tseng captured me. I hope they're well."

"Maybe her father is still alive," he said.

"But you told me…"

"I spoke of possibilities," Sephiroth said, regaining his pose and looking again at the window. Aerith didn't say a word, but kept on looking at him, perhaps waiting for an explanation. He fidgeted slightly before speaking again. "They could stand against Mother."

A chocked gasp.

"She's… is she…?"

"I only said that they could stand against her," he pointed out in a stern voice. "It takes far more than your friends have to actually kill her."

"But, how do you know?"

"I feel what she feels when her pain or her fury is intense enough," he explained.

The silver haired man still didn't look at her, but he felt the light body of the girl slumping against her seat and then a deep sigh of relief escaped her lips.

"Thank you," she said shyly.

He smiled, despite himself, and his long bangs covered mercifully his face.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

It stopped raining at midway and they could see the Gold Saucer's lights approaching and engulfing them. Sephiroth had to suppress a smile when he saw her looking everywhere, wide eyed.

"_Just like a child__,"_ he thought in amusement.

And she was like a child indeed, for her whole life has been spent in a laboratory and in a city without sky. She knew very little about the outside world, as he had to remember to himself very often.

They headed for the entrance. There weren't many people at that spot but, passing the ticket window, a crowd made difficult their advance. Just in case, he made her walk by his side, but his time he didn't grab her, just encircled her shoulders with one arm. She didn't utter a protest; what's more, she seemed unusually calm.

The deal he had to settle there couldn't wait. Time was on the essence, and they should part to the South as soon as possible.

The pair made their way to the hotel, a mansion taken out from any classical horror novel. Inside, the decoration drew together all the clichés about ghosts, vampires and other monsters. Even the room they were given had skull shaped chandeliers and medieval weapons arrayed in the walls.

"I have a thing to do," Sephiroth told her when she was still studying the room.

She turned, surprised.

"A thing?" she asked.

"I have to retrieve an object from the owner of this place. It will take time, so try to rest while I'm away," he said at last, turning to the opened door. He stopped suddenly. "I'll tell the staff to bring you food. You must be hungry."

He exited the room, as always, and he locked her inside, as always. But this time Aerith didn't feel her heart sinking at the thought of him coming back.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

**End of Chapter 24**

*insert evil cackle* Heheheee…


	25. 25 Warmth

**Disclaimer:** Again, I don't own any character of Final Fantasy, any of them, much to my dismay (I wish I could own pre-psycho Sephiroth all to me, but it cannot be).

This fanfict has been inspired by the song of Yann Tiersen, "Comptine d'un Autre Étè".

Many thanks to everyone for their encouragement, corrections and ideas.

Enjoy!

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

**CHAPTER ****25.**

_**The Sixth Station – Spirited Away OST – Joe Hisaishi.**_

XXXXXX-X-XXXXXX

Sephiroth tucked the Keystone inside his coat as he walked down the hall.

Obtaining it hadn't been so difficult. He imagined that he would have to pay a big sum for it but his only appearance had been enough to bring Dio, the owner of the Golden Saucer, on his knees. So the Keystone was his without effort. Apparently not only regular soldiers remembered him.

The only thing left was to travel to the Temple of the Ancients. There was no airport in the Golden Saucer, so they would have to travel even further to the South so they could reach the island.

He stopped before the door of their room, listening.

Silence.

Slowly, he unlocked the door and stepped inside.

The lights were out, but he could still see the empty tray on the table, witness of a solitary dinner, and in the bed, her sleeping form. Sephiroth walked slowly towards Aerith and saw her more clearly. She was sleeping soundly, facing the window. The covers were drawn up to her chest and she had taken one arm out. She was not in her dress, however, but clad again in a bathrobe.

He went then to the window and stared outside without really seeing anything.

"_Jenova took over your body, why wouldn't she also change your memories?"_

Sephiroth wondered why the words of the girl affected him so much. Maybe, just maybe, she echoed what a little part of his soul kept on telling him, but he had been too busy building an armor of hatred and wrath over himself to hear it.

"_I was told to fight for something."_

He could remember the words of that woman, the leader of the old Avalanche, Elfe. She was quite impressive, being capable of stand against him for so long. He hadn't paid much attention at those words for he considered them just a trick to distract him from the fight, and he had suppressed them consciously over the years but, after he had found Mother he finally understood the importance of having a motive for what he did, something to fight for.

Then, if that motive was so solid, why did he doubt?

Sound.

She grunted faintly in her sleep and he smiled bitterly. She was the cause. And he realized a terrible fact: he couldn't let her go.

Sephiroth had planned to leave her at the Golden Saucer, to wait for her friends who would surely come after them. He would carry out at least a part of his mission for Mother, saying that the girl had died or escaped.

He couldn't do that. He couldn't disobey Mother. Her wrath was terrible and she didn't allow any failure. That was why he was his son. He would never fail. He couldn't.

Besides, the mere thought of being apart from the girl now seemed unbearable. He couldn't be near her, but neither could he be far from her. Her presence was unnerving and soothing at the same time; that mixture made him feel more attracted to her, almost addicted. But also it angered him, because she aroused things inside him that he didn't quite understand, and was afraid of exploring them.

Aerith's grunt became a faint moan. He turned to see that her relaxed body now was tense, her free hand clutching the sheets and her face contorted in a grimace of pain. She had a nightmare again.

This time he didn't even bother to see who was torturing her in her dream. He knew it already.

Sephiroth perched on the bed and gently shook her shoulder, but she didn't react. He then took off one of his gloves and, softly, he grabbed her hand, the one which was balled into a little fist. He knew that her hands were tiny compared to with his own, but he couldn't help but to marvel at how her hand fitted perfectly inside his palm.

"Aerith," he called softly as he squeezed tenderly her hand.

This time she seemed to react, for she struggled to open her eyes. Sephiroth got up and walked away from her before she could do such a thing, to save her from any embarrassment. But as he rose, he noted a single tear escaping from her now opening eyes.

As he looked again at the window, he heard her sitting on the bed and sniffling softly.

"You had a nightmare again," he said.

"You… saw it?"

"I no longer have to see it to know what you were dreaming about."

Aerith sighed and was silent for a moment.

"Did you get what you were looking for?" she asked at last, trying to change the subject.

"I did. Better get back to sleep. Tomorrow we will depart at first hour."

Silence again.

"I… don't feel like sleeping."

He turned to see her. Aerith was sitting on the bed, her knees drawn to her chest and her head resting on them.

"I told you that he wouldn't harm you again."

"I know," she said, lifting her serious face. "But some memories are hard to forget. I wonder how you could do that."

"Do what?"

"Going ahead. You told me that you were always alone in the labs. How could you stand it?"

"Maybe that was my advantage," he said, shrugging. "After the pain there wasn't anyone to soothe me in my cubicle. You, on the other hand, had your mother. You had two worlds, one was better than the other. I only knew one until I was released for my training as a SOLDIER."

She bit her lip and sighed, again casting her eyes down.

"I wonder what destiny they reserved for me."

"Knowing Hojo," said Sephiroth, "better not to know."

"They said they wanted me to find the Promised Land for them."

"That's what Mother seeks. The Planet will become the Promised Land once she purifies it."

Aerith looked him in the eyes.

"You still believe it?"

His eyes were unreadable as he held her gaze. Then he turned again to the window.

"Sleep," he commanded. "We'll leave at sunrise."

There was nothing she could do except to obey. She lain again in the bed and covered herself up to her mouth, this time turning her back to the window. Maybe that way she could really sleep, instead of spending the rest of the night just staring at his black and silver figure.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

As soon as he was sure that she was asleep he retired from the window and went to sit on the couch, rubbing the bridge of his nose and feeling the mounting headache. Soon he allowed himself to stretch on the sofa, crossing his arms behind his head and letting his feet dangling over the other part.

This situation was far from being comfortable. Sephiroth had never been so torn between duty and… whatever he felt for the girl. Maybe it was his fault after all. He shouldn't have done many things. But, on the other hand, he was somehow glad to have done them. One thing was for sure: he would never regain his peace of mind until he knew what was happening to him. And maybe this would get worse should he ever discover the cause of his affliction, why he felt distressed whenever she was sad or in pain, why it kept nagging him that he had never seen her smile.

He tried to push away those thoughts. They were useless, they wouldn't aid to his situation and they left him strangely tired, to such an extent that he needed to rest in order to calm down his headache.

_xxxxxxxxxxxx_

_He was still lying down on his back, his arms still crossed behind his head. But now he was under a tree, on a warm spring morning. Birds sung on the branches, a part of their courting rites in that season, and the faint scent of fresh grass mingled with the one from the__ blooming flowers._

_He closed his eyes once more, dozing._

_Sneaky steps on the grass. He didn't react, thought, and he realized that, once more, it was not his body which he was feeling through._

_A feminine voice resounded, though his hearing was numbed and he couldn't distinguish what was being said at first._

"_How are you supposed to be my bodyguard if you're up here sleeping?" the woman said aloud._

_Startled, h__e opened his eyes and saw her. She was tall and slender, maybe in her middle twenties, dressed in blue and with her chestnut long hair gathered in an unusual style of ponytail, with a pale yellow ribbon holding her mane. The woman was looking at him with a warm and playful smile and the same warmth could be seen in her brown eyes._

"_The warm breeze..." he apologized, though not with his voice, as he sat up. "I was only going to rest my eyes for a minute."_

"_Well," she conceded, __turning around and striding a little as if she was indeed forgiving him, "I have to admit, the breeze is quite pleasant. However..." she turned to him again, "I think you're in my place."_

_He gaped at her, not knowing what to say, until she saw his bewildered face and giggled, pulling__ out a picnic basket from behind her back._

"_Care to join me?"_

_xxxxxxxxxxxx_

Sephiroth opened his eyes to find himself again in the hotel room. He grunted and rubbed his brow, annoyed by his lack of control. He had left his mind wander again and another vision had invaded it. But, even more than annoyed, he felt embarrassed. He gave thanks that it hadn't been something even more private than the playful banter between two lovers totally unknown to him.

He heard noise coming from the bathroom. The shower was turned on.

Sephiroth sat up lazily and looked at his surroundings. It was still dark outside, but Aerith had gotten out of the bed already. Maybe it was true that her nightmares frightened her so much that she could sleep no more.

The sound of running water ceased and a curtain was drawn back.

He sighed, throwing back his head on the couch. Life was easier as a SOLDIER, but also emptier, with no long-term objectives, no projects. No future.

Though he had few memories from his past, he secretly hoped that the forgotten ones were about such tortuous things that his brain had decided just to block them. Victims of traumatic experiences were said to forget what happened to them for their own sanity.

He was Sephiroth, SOLDIER First Class. The best warrior in the world and in history; his mother was Jenova, and they were destined to cleanse the Planet, as she intended long ago.

But, what if there was another "him" of whom he didn't know anything? What if there was more beyond his titles of SOLDIER, of war hero, of Savior? Maybe he was somebody totally different from who he thought he was.

We are what our memories and our acts tell of us. If we have no memories, no purpose, then we are like shadows, something half-real, half-nonexistent. That was what his heart feared the most: to be nothing, just like a walking shadow, and end up vanishing as if he had never existed, only with the Void and Oblivion as destination.

Now that he had something to fight for, something to believe in, he didn't want to let it go. He had a mission, something that only he could accomplish; that made him feel _alive_ and, at the same time, it gave him a certain sense of security, for it gave him an identity, something he desperately needed.

Aerith got out from the bathroom, now fully dressed and finishing braiding her hair.

Sephiroth looked at her and, for a brief moment, he wished that she regarded him like the woman in his vision regarded the man he was incarnating.

She looked at him and stopped, half-startled.

"I thought you were sleeping," she said as she finished braiding her hair and came to sit at the foot of the bed, in front of him.

"I do not sleep," he answered in a soft voice.

Aerith gazed at him. His eyes had lost a great part of their glow, as they did every time he seemed to be worried. He just held her stare in silence, not giving any sign of being examining her. He was only looking into her eyes, and it surprised her that his gaze didn't seem so unnerving anymore.

"Why did you do that?" he asked all of a sudden, without tearing his eyes from her face.

"Do what?"

"Throwing yourself on a quest in which you had little possibilities of success. Trying to find someone of whom you didn't even know whether he existed or not, knowing that you had little chances of traveling outside Midgar, only to content a spirit."

"She wasn't just a spirit," Aerith retorted. "That woman really loved the child she rescued. She was a widow; she lived alone until that boy appeared in her life and they found comfort in each other's company, as if they were a real family."

"You seem to know much of that," he commented, thought there was no mocking in his voice.

"I know because that was what happened to me," she sighed and averted her eyes. "I thought at that moment of what that boy felt when she died, so I accepted to give her pendant to him."

"Why is it so important?"

Aerith smiled sadly, as if lost in her memories.

"She said it was a protection against anything bad that might happen to the one who was destined to wear it, or whoever happened to wear it with permission. Also, it's a memento of her; I thought he would be happy to have it."

Sephiroth fell silent. He had seen the pendant glow on its own accord whenever she had been in pain. Maybe there was a bit of truth in her words.

"What happens if someone who is not the chosen one touches it?"

She looked at him, confused.

"Nothing."

"Nothing?" he raised an eyebrow.

She shook her head.

"Nothing at all," she said. "This was meant to protect, not to cause pain."

He crossed his arms over his chest and averted his eyes from her.

"When I first met you, I happened to touch that stone. Something happened."

Out of the corner of his eye he could see how she clutched the pendant.

"What happened?" she asked, her voice barely audible.

"Since that night I kept on having visions," he said after a long pause, visibly unhappy about having to tell such a thing. "I saw myself as if I was somebody else, as if I was dreaming, only that I never sleep."

He seemed worried and upset. No wonder, for he took pride on his self-control, if everything she had heard and seen by herself was true.

"What can you see in those visions?"

"Fragmented events. I recognized one location, though, but I fear that it is no more," he paused and looked at her once more. "It was the basement at Shinra Manor, in Nibelheim. I don't remember if the flames devoured it, but I'm sure that it was the location I saw."

"But, I don't understand it," said Aerith, cradling the pendant in her hand. "Ania wasn't supposed to have been in Nibelheim."

Sephiroth snorted bitterly.

"Perhaps it was a practical joke from a spirit. There is no other way to explain why I only saw tortures in those visions."

"Tortures?"

She looked at him wide eyed; poor girl, so ignorant of the world. Sephiroth only nodded.

"One of them consisted in that person being gagged and buried alive; all under the supervision of a man clad in a white lab coat."

"Hojo," she gasped, covering her mouth.

"I can't possibly know," he said, shaking his head. "It was too blurry to distinguish anything or anyone."

"And… what about your attack?" she asked. It surprised him to see her concerned. "Was it the stone?"

"No," he averted his eyes once more. "It has nothing to do with your pendant."

"It was _her_, right?"

He didn't answer. He didn't need to. The girl was wiser than she looked for her age.

"Why do you do this?" she asked, waking him from his musing.

"I have no other choice," he said, more to remember it to himself than to make a statement.

Aerith stood and went to the window. Their room was facing north, towards the Corel Mountains, from where they had come. Dawn was coming, painting the sky with a palette of light blue-violet to the east, while some stars still lingered to the west. Soon the Sun would come out, staining the snowy peak with red-blood.

She heard movement behind her and the crackling of leather.

"Aerith," he called her. It startled her that it was the first time she heard him addressing her by her name. "I promised you that Mother would never harm you. I am a man of my word."

She turned and faced him. The silver haired man was at arm's length, staring at her. Though the light from the outside was hardly enough to see, it was caught and reflected by his eyes, making them shine gently with a pale and warm light, very different from the harsh glow they normally had. It caught her breath, though she fought not to stare and answer him instead.

"I don't doubt you."

Those words surprised him, and also her, as soon as they left her lips. She continued to speak, fully aware of the deep blush that crept to her cheeks.

"I don't doubt you," she repeated. "But, what about _**her**_?"

"I shall convince Mother."

"How?" she exclaimed out of frustration. "You told me that you didn't want to kill the people of Nibelheim yet she forced you to do it."

"I'll find a way."

Aerith averted her gaze, holding back the tears which threatened to break free. Again, she heard the crackling of leather, and she felt his ungloved hands cupping her face and forcing her, though delicately, to look at him. She stiffened, startled, and wished to pull away, but her body wouldn't obey her. She closed her eyes upon feeling his lips softly pressed against hers, and tears rolled down her cheeks as he moved his mouth over hers, slowly and tenderly. She didn't know why she cried, whether it was out of sadness, frustration or plain fear towards her future, but she felt her heart tearing up with that kiss.

How strange that his gentleness caused her more pain than his ruthlessness.

When he broke the contact he kissed her softly on her brow and then he kept on looking into her eyes, wiping away her tears in silence. His eyes were very far from the eerie orbs they used to be. There was warmth within them now, as the natural light illuminated them completely, instead of their own inner brilliance, making them fully human. She only had seen such tenderness on him once, and it hadn't lasted long. Now it seemed as if he didn't want to let her go.

And some part of her wondered if she really wanted him to release her.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

Three days passed since they left the Golden Saucer and a caravan had carried them to the border of the surrounding desert.

The mood between them was full of awkwardness. Aerith didn't speak to him and avoided his gaze whenever she could.

Never before had she felt so confused.

Despite how outgoing she seemed, not many people really knew her. Zack had been her first love, and yet she hadn't let him know everything about her. Aerith let him get near because he was very warm, and she found herself unable to turn him down. And so they began to date, though it was a very innocent relationship, just few brief kisses on the lips or on the cheek and some hugs.

Through the years she had learnt to cope with his absence, and with the possibility that maybe he had found another girl; until that day, one year ago, when she saw his spirit in her church. From that day she knew she was really alone, because the one that came to mean so much for her and never asked about her "gift", or why she was so special for the Company, that one was part of the Planet now.

And then appeared this man, Sephiroth, of whom she had only heard legends and tales from Zack and other people.

It confused her they way her heart fluttered whenever she felt his eyes on her, and it had only been worse since that morning in the Golden Saucer. She always thought that her heart belonged to Zack, and that they would be together at last when she died; such was the way she came to accept death, and even hope that it would come soon.

But when Sephiroth had kissed her, all her doubts, all her beliefs about what love was, all crumbled and fell down, leaving her empty, meaningless. She was scared, frightened, because it was something she had never felt before, not even with Zack. Hanging around with her late boyfriend made her feel happy, just because Zack seemed to be always that way. With Sephiroth it was different. She couldn't put it into words, she only knew it was different.

She hadn't sought comfort or counsel in her mother's Materia since that morning. She didn't feel ready yet to communicate with the Planet; nor with anyone else for the matter.

For now it was better not to think, not to care about anything, just keep walking. Because if she cared, if she stopped to behold what was happening to her, it would drive her mad.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

Sitting against a tree's trunk with his arms wrapped around his legs, he couldn't stop looking at her, like every night. And, like every night since they left the Golden Saucer, his inner struggle between remorse and anger took new force.

He had thought that those unsettling feelings would recede with time, but they didn't. Then he thought that maybe they would disappear if he satisfied them if only a little, but they instead kept coming back to torture him, demanding more and more, like insatiable devils.

First he hungered for her mere touch, now he wanted her wholly.

It was a little comforting that he wasn't the only one who felt that way. The glances she threw at him whenever she thought he didn't notice, or the way she gazed into the distance when they camped hadn't escaped him. He hadn't seen her cradling her Materia or the pendant anymore, as if she wanted to shut off from the world around her.

Sephiroth buried his face in his knees and sighed. He didn't know what to do. For the first time in his life, he was utterly lost.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

**End of Chapter 25.**

I found out that, while Sephy is struggling with his feelings, why not make Aerith do the same? She's afraid of what she's feeling, just as Sephy.

_Seph:_ C'mon, baby! You know you want it! *sexy smile and wink*

_Aerith:_ *unimpressed* We need to build tension, so forget it.

_Seph:_ *pouts* Awwww, shoot.


	26. 26 The Phantom Pianist

**Disclaimer:** Again, I don't own any character of Final Fantasy, any of them, much to my dismay (I wish I could own pre-psycho Sephiroth all to me, but it cannot be).

This fanfict has been inspired by the song of Yann Tiersen, "Comptine d'un Autre Étè".

Many thanks to everyone for their encouragement, corrections and ideas.

It's time for a little break!

Enjoy!

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

**CHAPTER ****26.**

_**Le Moulin – Yann Tiersen.**_

XXXXXX-X-XXXXXX

A sudden jerk woke him up.

Cloud cursed under his breath and closed his eyes again. His idea of going through the mountains with the buggy looked like the best thing they could do to make the trip in only a day and a half, but it also made quite difficult to sleep. And thank Odin that Tifa was a good driver and avoided as many holes and bumps as she could, but still, the shortcut they took was filled with obstacles.

The travel had been long and difficult, always reaching a town and finding just rumors about a tall man with a black cape accompanied by a girl in pink. This wasn't so bad though: as long as they kept hearing such rumors it meant that Aerith was still alive.

But for how long it depended on them.

Cloud traveled in the co-pilot seat, beside Tifa, for they made turns at the wheel. Barret occupied the entire second row and the rest sat in the third one. Sometimes he had to remind himself that the group had been increasing its number with almost each visited location.

He heard a muffled voice from behind, and then a loud protest. Without opening his eyes he knew exactly what had happened: surely Yuffie and Nanaki were fighting over the space to sleep.

The ex-SOLDIER was still not used to Nanaki. He was a giant feline, with vivid red fur and many battle scars; one of those wounds took away his right eye. But the most outstanding feature was that he was capable of, not only understanding, but also speaking human language. They had found him in Shinra's labs while searching for Aerith and he had tagged along. Though his home was Cosmo Canyon and they would skip it on their route, he accepted to aid them in their pursuit of Sephiroth, thought it meant to delay his return home.

Concerning Yuffie, the self-proclaimed ninja, he was still wary about her. They had found her in a forest near Junon and she had tried to steal their money. He still didn't know why he had agreed to admit her.

He half-heard the young thief whining something.

Now he remembered why he had agreed. Upon seeing her proposal of joining them almost rejected by him and Barret, she had turned to Tifa with that pouting face and those puppy eyes of her. Of course it worked: Tifa was too kind to reject such a thing, even if it was just pretended. Though Yuffie claimed to have sixteen, he certainly doubted that, for she sometimes acted like a child of eight.

The third "reinforcement" was called Caith Sith. He was a toysaurus… or something like that, but his form was best described as a cat riding a giant moogle. They had found him at the Golden Saucer and he was a self-proclaimed fortuneteller. He had predicted them something so strange that he joined them with the hope of witnessing it. Now he just sat at the back of the buggy. Apparently he could turn himself off during the night.

"_This group looks more like a circus troupe by the day,"_ he thought slightly angry.

But the source of his anger didn't lie on the new companions. He felt impotent about Aerith's situation. It was his fault that she had been captured by Sephiroth. If only he had been faster she would be safe with them.

Also, they were heading towards Nibelheim, to where Dio, the owner of the Golden Saucer, had told them that Sephiroth was heading. Five years before it had been burnt to the ground by the silver haired man, the one he had been regarding as a hero. He had assassinated almost everyone in his town upon turning mad, including both his mother and Tifa's father. And because of him the girl had almost died.

Sephiroth had taken away almost everything he cherished.

There wasn't enough time in the world to heal the wound that Sephiroth had opened that day in their very souls. And now he wanted to take also Aerith's life too, an innocent girl from the slums, as if there was no limit for his cruelty.

"Cloud," called Tifa softly.

He opened his eyes reluctantly and grunted a response.

"We are near the Nibel Mountains," she continued.

Dawn was near, and their homeland's mountains stood out against the clearing sky.

_Homeland._

Cloud felt a weight setting in the pit of his stomach as he thought back about what had happened. Being far away from the place gave him an eerie feeling that all had been a nightmare, and now they would have to confront reality. He wondered if there would be still some remnants of what was once their town. He remembered how his house had burned that night. He had tried to enter to rescue his mother, but she was already dead.

"Are we there yet?" asked Yuffie from the back of the vehicle. "I'm beginning to feel my butt sore."

"Just a couple of hours," answered Tifa.

"Goin' to ya home it's a'right, man," said Barret, trying to stretch his back in the narrow space. "But what 'bout the rest?"

"We are trying to rescue Aerith," said Cloud. "That would be our main objective. After that… well, we will see."

"We'll see?" yelled the dark skinned man. "Whaddaya mean, we'll see? Ain't we going to kill dat goddamned psycho?"

"Sephiroth is more powerful than you can imagine. Battling him is not like fighting against normal Shinra SOLDIERs."

Barret huffed and slumped against the seat.

"Barret is right, Cloud," said Nanaki. "What will you do when we encounter Sephiroth. You saw how powerful Jenova was in the cargo, and it was only a fragment."

"I have no other choice," the ex-SOLDIER responded. "I have to rescue her, even if I have to do it alone."

"You won't be alone," said Tifa.

Cloud looked at the girl. He had never seen her so serious before. She was afraid, he could tell, but still she was willing to face peril. Just like him.

"I remember Sephiroth," it was Yuffie who spoke all of a sudden. "He was the one that commanded the Shinra army during the War."

"May I suppose that you too have a grudge against him?" asked Nanaki.

"Nope. Not really," she answered, reclining in the seat and crossing her arms behind her head. "But surely he has a lot of Materia with him."

All rolled their eyes, except for Tifa, who only suppressed a giggle, despite herself.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

"This… cannot be."

Cloud felt his blood draining and Tifa had to lean against the buggy. The rest gathered around them to have a better view of the town's entrance.

The village was intact. Not a single house was missing and even the well still functioned.

"What's happenin' here?" demanded Barret. "Didn't ya say that it was burned down?"

"But it was!" almost yelled Cloud out of frustration, yet his anger wasn't meant for the dark skinned man. "I remember everything, the heat, the screams, everything!"

"That's ok, Cloud," said Caith as he approached bouncing. "I'm sure there will be an explanation for this."

"It'd better be," murmured Cloud and he signaled them to follow him to the village.

All was as it should have been. Everything was in place, the inn was at the left from the entrance and next to it there was the store. His house looked pretty much like it used to and so did Tifa's. Everything was right.

Except for one thing.

"Cloud," said Tifa, standing next to him. "Where are the people?"

The streets were empty. There was no one to be seen, something quite unusual.

"Let's check the inn first," he said.

"What's that?" asked Nanaki.

All looked at the place he was pointing. There was a figure clad in a black cape and a black hood, sitting in a gap between Cloud's and Tifa's houses, half hidden in the shadows.

"It's that Sephiroth?" whispered Yuffie.

"I'll go first," said Cloud.

The young man carefully approached the figure. That couldn't be Sephiroth, for the one who sat before him was too small.

"Hey," he called softly, attempting not to sound too harsh.

His greeting was answered only by a deep male voice grunting. The figure began to rock; it looked like he had been drugged.

"R… reu… nion," he said.

"What happened?" said Tifa as she came close to her friend.

Cloud extended one arm so she wouldn't approach more.

"Great… Se… phi…roth," kept on saying the strange man.

"What?" Cloud kneeled before the man, his eyes full of anxiousness. "Did you say Sephiroth? Is he here?"

"We… have to… return. Return… to him…"

"Where is Sephiroth?" Cloud kept on asking, though his patience was running out.

"Not here… we mourn… he not here."

"_So they're still ahead,"_ thought Cloud.

That's when the man lifted his head. Tifa suppressed a scream and Cloud nearly fell backwards.

It was John, the old man who ran the store when they were kids. His skin was very pale, as if he had been kept him many years indoors. He looked at them with a void stare, his mouth half opened. But what startled them most were his eyes. It was as if someone had substituted his eyes with green Materia orbs.

"Mako poisoning," murmured Cloud.

It was Mako poisoning, indeed, but in such an advanced state that no human could survive in those conditions.

They heard heavy footsteps behind them.

"Hey, Pinhead! What da… holy shit!" shouted Barret when he was next to Tifa. "What da hell happened here?"

Cloud only stood up and turned to them. A silent rage could be seen growing in his cerulean eyes.

"Let's go," he only said.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

When he pushed the door to the inn the sense of apprehension was almost unbearable. His nerves calmed down, though, when he saw a plain looking man reading a book behind the counter. The hallway was as he remembered it. The stairs were to his right and to the left there was the door leading to the kitchen.

"Oh, good morning," the innkeeper greeted them merrily. "It's not usual to have visitors around here. Do you wish to rent a room?"

"Maybe," said Cloud leaning on the counter. "Say, did you come here after the incident five years ago?"

"What incident, sir?" suddenly the warm smile faded from his face. "I don't know what you are talking about. I've lived here my entire life and this town has always been very tranquil."

"Well, it happens that _I_ was born here. I left when I was fourteen and I don't remember you at all. What's happening here?" Cloud's voice lowered to a dangerous growl in the last sentence. Tifa sensed the peril and came by his side.

"Excuse us," she said. "It's true that we were born here and that something happened here."

"I said I don't know what you are talking about," the man said stiffly. "If you're going to talk about such horrible things in my establishment I'll have to ask you to leave at once. Good day."

It was more than obvious that he didn't mean them to have a good day, but it was an effective way of ending a conversation. To enforce his posture, he returned to his book, ignoring them on purpose.

Cloud felt the sudden urge to punch that man, to shake him until he returned to his senses, but Tifa's hands restrained his arm, so they could leave without problems. The young man simply sighed and let Tifa guide him towards the exit. They were about to leave, when Yuffie's voice sounded from the kitchen.

"Hey! There's another one of these guys!"

The innkeeper blanched and dropped the book as he hurried to block their path, but Cloud was faster and entered the room. The rest followed him, with the nervous owner right behind them.

The young ninja was crouched before a sitting figure clad in black, like the one they had found outside.

"What's happening here?" Cloud growled again at the innkeeper, who now wrung his hand nervously.

"P-please," he said meekly. "We don't know anything. They are just sick people. I assure you that they are inoffensive."

"That's not the question. What I want to know is who did this to them."

"We don't know, sir. They showed up and they come and go from one part of the village to the other."

Cloud stared at the man for a moment, pondering whether he was telling the truth. Obviously he was hiding something, but he looked more terrified than deceiving.

"All right then," he said at last to the group. "We are going to the Manor."

"No!" yelled the innkeeper. Now he was even more frightened. "Please don't go in there. It's haunted!"

Cloud arched an eyebrow: "Say what?"

"There are rumors," he began with a trembling voice, "that someone had a horrible death there and that now his spirit haunts the Manor."

"What happened to ya tow', Cloud?" asked Barret. "All I see is a banch o' freaks an' weirdos."

"It's true!" the man exclaimed indignantly. "We hear it at night, playing the piano. And no one, hear me, no one is able to press even a single key."

"Calm down, please," said Tifa. "Has this happened before?"

"It began almost one year ago. We heard it in the middle of the night and it terrifies us, because it's like a demon who's playing that goddamned instrument! It bewitches you, I swear it! Those who have heard it begin to cry like babies for days, and there's nothing that we can do for them except to wait until the spell wears out. And even then they say that they feel like there's nothing for them to live for. We are very grateful that none of them committed suicide. That's why we stay away from there."

Cloud pondered the words of the man. It was true that something horrible had happened in the Manor but, from what he knew, it was far away from a haunting.

"Ghosts don't come out during the day," he said. "And this is a bright morning, so we are going anyway, but thank for the info."

"I suppose I can't stop you, can I?" said the man slumping his shoulders, defeated. "Just don't cause any trouble, I beg you."

The ex-SOLDIER nodded and signaled the group to get out from there.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

"What the man said is to be considered," said Nanaki when they were outside.

"I know, but I don't believe in ghosts. I think it could be more like a trick from the living.

"Cloud, listen to me. Some spirits are unable to join the Lifestream because their hatred is too intense and they don't want to leave yet. I only say that we must be cautious."

"Dontcha worry, kitty," said Barret, caressing his gun-arm and quite oblivious of Nanaki's murderous glare. "We can beat the crap outta any ghost."

But the fire beast just shook his head and murmured: "These humans…", before following the path to the Manor.

The Mansion was as Tifa and Cloud remembered: gloomy and decadent. That, and the fact that it belonged to Shinra were enough things to have kept everyone away back when they were children.

The door cracked and moaned when Cloud pushed it open. All flinched at the deep smell of dust and dampness that assaulted their nostrils. For once, they didn't hear Yuffie saying any smart remark about the new place. She was too busy trying to control her nerves and appear unmoved by her surroundings. As much as she intended to conceal it, she was of the superstitious kind, and any hint of a curse or a haunted place was enough to give her the creeps.

Cloud stopped in the hallway, looking at the adjacent rooms.

"Let's see," he said, thinking aloud. "If I remember well, the living room was there."

He went then to his left, down a short corridor. The door was opened and beyond it there was a lounge-dining room. Ample stained windows looked at the back and the side of the house, a large table sat at the other end of the room while a door opened to another corridor in that part. The infamous piano was right at the entrance.

Only Yuffie protested when Tifa approached it to search for something useful.

"C-Cloud, why don't we move on? I'm sure Aerith would like you to hurry up a bit more."

"What's wrong, lassie?" said Caith, who had been silent since their arrival at the town. "You're not afraid, aren't ya?"

"Of course I'm not afraid! It's just that I hate to waste time."

Taking advantage of the little dispute, Tifa tried the keys. She couldn't press any of them, not matter how much force she exerted.

"What's wrong?" asked Cloud, coming by her side.

"The keys won't move. The innkeeper was right."

The spiky haired man looked annoyed at the piano, trying to find out the trick beneath its appearance. He threw himself to the floor and crawled under it, but he didn't find anything.

"What'cha doin'?" asked Barret when Cloud came out.

"I thought that maybe there was a recorded tape down there," he said dusting his pants. "There's nothing, so we have to search more."

"What?" yelled the ninja. "That piano is haunted and you want us to stay? Are you crazy or what?"

"It's daylight," he explained calmly. "We'll stay until the sun sets down. Maybe we'll finish even sooner. Are you calm enough now?"

The girl nodded, but more because of the potential findings she could come across than to Cloud's explanation.

And they began searching around the house.

There wasn't any apparent clue about anyone living there, not even a sign that someone would sneak inside at night only to play a prank on the frightened townsfolk.

Yuffie was an expert at looking for, and finding, any kind of loot. Her search around one of the bedrooms of the upper floor was more fruitful than that of her companions. Still, it disappointed her to have found only a little diary in a drawer's false bottom, quite hard to find for the inexperienced, but an easy task for her. And as if it wasn't degraded enough, said diary was locked with no padlock at all, only a metal band in the place where said padlock should have been and a little rectangular surface on the brown leather lid's part. She kept it, though, for maybe in her travel she would discover any way to open the little book. After that, she needed something to distract herself with so, when she found a closed safe, she thought that the great Leviathan had answered her prayers. It didn't take her too long before the lock gave a satisfying click and she could see what was so important to put into a safe.

She gasped. Then she screamed.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

"This is a monster of a key," said Tifa, handling the object.

She was referring more to its shape than to its size. The handle was modeled to resemble the body of a horned demon, its arms crossed on the muscular chest and the wings neatly folded around the entire body, forming a protective barrier.

"This was what scared you?" Caith asked the ninja, who was now sitting at the little desk, almost crying. It took them a while to calm her down and find out the source of her distress.

"Just shut the hell up!", she yelled. "There's a legend in my land about a key to Hell, and this key looks exactly like the real one!"

"Yuffie," said Nanaki. "Those stories have a bit of truth, but you shouldn't stick to the literal thing."

"Yeah," said Cloud as Barret handled the key to him. "What if the one that ordered this key thought about this form precisely because he was afraid of a gifted wutaian ninja like you?"

That seemed to calm her down a little more. The girl rubbed her eyes and leapt from the desk, adopting a brave pose, showing her recovery skills.

"All right," said Cloud. "The only place left is the basement. I know the secret entrance."

"Let's go!" Yuffie exclaimed, disappearing through the door.

The group sighed.

"She doesn't even know where the entrance is," said Nanaki, shaking his head.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

It cost a little to find again the switch to the hidden door, but after several tries, the door to the spiral staircase opened. The ex-SOLDIER could never explain why there was a constant current of air coming from down below, but the echoing passage was more unnerving with the wind's whistle.

Down the stairs he found the light's switch and turned it on. Fortunately it still functioned. At the end there was a wooden door connecting the corridor with the library and the laboratory, where Sephiroth had gone insane five years before. Though he tried to be calm, Cloud felt a chill down his spine remembering those last moments in the Manor. How could a man like Sephiroth turn into a demon only by reading about his past? It was true that discovering the way he had been born should have been quite traumatic, but it wasn't an excuse for the slaughter that followed. He remembered everything, even that large panel in the left wall, near the library's entrance. He could never find out what it was used for.

Something metallic caught his attention. Near the right side of the panel there was what appeared to be a metallic plaque, but so covered with dirt and rust that only his enhanced senses could catch the faint glimpse.

"I think…" he said tentatively, trying to clean the surface with his hand. As he suspected, there was something engraved there.

"What says?" asked Barret, leaning on him to have a better look.

"There's no writing here, only…" he trailed off, and then he looked at the key.

The same horned and winged demon was engraved in the metallic plaque. The rust and dirt gave it an even more unnerving appearance, as if behind that door a true demon was imprisoned.

"I'll try to open it," Cloud said at last. "Barret, cover me. The rest, be ready, ok?"

They nodded. He heard the arm-gun being readied and he himself held a grip on his Buster Sword. Only a turn of the key and the door was opened.

What lay on the next room made them shiver and had Cloud draw his sword. There were several coffins all over the room; all were opened but one, and many, many bones were piled up here and there, as if it was the den of some fierce beast.

"I knew it was true!" he heard Yuffie whimpering.

"What the hell…?" said Barret.

"I'll open the coffin, be ready," Could warned in a whisper.

Cautiously, he approached the coffin with Barret right behind him. He gripped the lid, testing it. Since he didn't find any resistance, he slid it aside slowly, for it was very heavy. But when he was about half the way, a metallic claw emerged from the darkness of the casket and pushed the cover aside with ease. All jumped back and gasped at the sight of the claw, expecting a monster to come out.

A man emerged from the sarcophagus, sitting on it. With a crimson cloak and black outfit, he looked more like a vampire from an ancient tale, for he was deathly pale, his long black hair held into place by a red bandana and two eyes of the same color peering at them with mingled annoyance and impassivity.

"You woke me up from my nightmare," he simply said. His voice was deep and devoid of any emotion. "I've never seen you before. You must leave."

"You… were having a nightmare?" asked Cloud, dropping his sword from the ready stance. The man was amazingly calm, having several weapons aiming at him at the same time.

"Hmph... a nightmare...?" he replied. "My long sleep has given me time to atone."

"What are you saying?"

"I have nothing to say to strangers. Get out," the man said dismissively. "This mansion is the beginning of your nightmare."

"You can say that again," Cloud sighed.

"Hmm? What do you know?" asked the man, showing for the first time a bit of interest on the visitors.

"Like you said, this mansion is the beginning of a nightmare," Cloud began to explain, then he shook his head. "No, it's not a dream, it's for real. Sephiroth has lost his mind. He found the secrets hidden in this Mansion..."

"Sephiroth?!" exclaimed the man, opening wide his crimson eyes and gripping at the coffin's border with his claw. With a closer inspection, they could notice that it was only a golden gauntlet and that he also had golden attachments on his boots, which made them look pointy, like the ones of the ancient knights.

"Do you know Sephiroth?" asked both Cloud and the man in unison.

The pale man stood on the sarcophagus and leapt, doing a back flip and landing on the top edge, standing with his arm crossed.

"You start first," he said simply.

Seeing no other option, Cloud began to tell the strange man everything he knew about what happened five years ago: their arrival in the village, the investigation of the reactor, Sephiroth's descent to madness and the burning and killing that followed. The others simply listened in silence, all weapons lowered. The man had an imposing presence, as if he alone could beat all of them at once with his bare hands. Even Yuffie, who was at first deadly afraid of entering the room, was peering from behind Tifa, to have a better view of the stranger.

"And that's how it was," Cloud concluded.

"So," said the man, "Sephiroth found out five years ago how he was created? And about the Jenova Project?"

"He was missing. But recently he just reappeared. What's more, he abducted a friend of us and he's seeking the Promised Land. Now's your turn."

The man shook his head.

"Sorry... I cannot speak."

"What tha hell…?" Barret began, taking a step towards him menacingly, but Cloud stopped him.

"Hearing your stories has added upon me yet another sin," the man said, returning to the coffin and laying back down. "More nightmares shall come to me now, more than I previously had. Now… please leave."

The golden claw grabbed again the lid and dragged it in onto the casket; before he could close it completely, Cloud called him.

"Wait!"

The man opened the lid again and sat down.

"At least tell us your name."

"I was with... the Shinra Manufacturing Department in Administrative Research, otherwise known as the Turks... My name is Vincent Valentine."

"The Turks!?"

"Formerly one of the Turks. I have no affiliation with Shinra now. And you?"

"Former Shinra SOLDIER, Cloud Strife."

"You were also with Shinra...? Then do you know Lucrecia?" the man asked, again with the merest hint of emotion in his eyes.

Cloud shook his head.

"I'm sorry. I don't know who you're talking about."

"She was the woman who gave birth to Sephiroth."

Al gaped at Vincent. So Sephiroth was born of a normal woman after all. Tifa was the only one who could speak after some baffled seconds.

"Wasn't Jenova Sephiroth's mother?"

"That isn't completely wrong, but just a theory," he answered calmly. "He was born from a beautiful lady. That lady was Lucrecia. She was an assistant of Professor Gast in the Jenova Project." For a moment he downcast his eyes and a flicker of sadness crossed his thin face. "Beautiful... Lucrecia."

"A human experiment?" said Cloud, perplexed and horrified.

The man called Vincent didn't look at them when he spoke. Nanaki noticed how his claw dug into the hard surface of the coffin as he talked.

"There was no way to cancel the experiment," he said. "I couldn't stop her. That was my sin. I let the one I loved, the one I respected most, face the worst."

"So," said Cloud, "this imprisonment was your punishment?"

"That's a way of naming it. My true prison lays within me. Now, if I satisfied your curiosity, I'd appreciate that you'd left me alone."

Vincent laid back down again and closed the lid, ending the conversation.

Cloud sighed. In silence, he gestured the others to get out of there. Just because he sympathized with Vincent, he didn't close the door, for he felt that they were alike in their guilt and in their past with Shinra.

"What now?" asked Tifa when they were at the corridor.

"I suppose that we should leave," said Cloud, clearly disappointed. "There's nothing here."

There were reaching the stairs when a voice called them.

"Wait!"

They saw Vincent coming out from the room and pacing towards them. It surprised them how tall he was. Even Barret was a bit shorter than him. The group opened unconsciously, making room for him to pass.

"If I go with you," he said to Cloud when he was facing him, "will I meet Hojo?"

"Dunno," Cloud said, shrugging. "But we're after him and Sephiroth. So, I guess sooner or later..."

"I wish to accompany you."

"What?"

"Being a former Turk, I may be of help to you."

Cloud scratched the back of his head.

"I'm not against it," said Tifa. "One more weapon is always welcomed."

"All right then. If there's no one against it, we'll travel together."

Vincent nodded in silence as they resumed their walk towards the upper level.

"Oh, Cloud," he commented while they were climbing the stairs. "It was very kind of you to leave the door unlocked, but I can open it from the inside."

The ex-SOLDIER halted abruptly.

"What? Don't tell me…"

"That I can come and go as I please? Of course. I said that my true prison lays within me."

He heard Barret grunting right behind him: "We're just picki' up weirdos."

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

When they got out from the basement it was already past noon.

"I think we should go to the inn to eat first," suggested Tifa after hearing Barret's stomach grumbling.

"Yeah, we should eat and buy as many supplies as we could," said Cloud. "Crossing the mountains will take us only one day, but we have to think about what's beyond that."

"You shouldn't travel at night through those mountains," said Vincent.

"How do ya know?" asked Barret warily. "Did you eva' come out of this place?"

"I know there are monsters out there," replied Vincent as calml as ever. "The townsfolk will say the same if you ask them about it. I'm not against travelling at night, but having encounters would slow us down. We would arrive at the other side by the same time that if we had chosen to part at sunrise, plus, we would be battered and tired."

"You surely are strange for a human," commented Nanaki, pleased that this time he didn't receive any startled look when he decided to display his speaking skills.

"Maybe I'm not human anymore," said Vincent with a shadow of a smirk on his face.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

After they made the proper introductions to the new member, Vincent expressed his wish to remain in the Mansion until they were done with their business in the village.

The group could confirm that the Nibel Mountains were crowded with monsters and that the creatures were mostly nocturnal. If they were going to part at that time of the day, night would catch them in the middle of nowhere. They were skilled fighters, but Cloud wanted to avoid unnecessary risks as much as possible. So they decided to spend the night at the village.

Cloud stood on the corridor leading to the rooms, looking through the windows. It was the same village and still, it was completely different. The days when he used to play with the rest of the kids were long gone. They disappeared in the fire five years ago. He didn't want rage to take over his mind, but sometimes he couldn't help feeling too eager for vengeance.

They had spent the rest of the day gathering the necessary supplies and hanging around in the inn. Neither Tifa nor he had the courage to explore more of the village. It hurt to see their homes now occupied by other people and that no one would acknowledge that something happened, something terrible.

He would find some day for that, eventually, but right now there were things far more important than a personal crusade. The life of a friend was at stake.

"Cloud," Tifa's voice called him softly.

He turned to her. She was looking at him almost timidly. He found strange how distant she seemed at times, knowing that they had been childhood friends.

"Yes?"

"It's nothing," she said, coming to his side to also watch through the window with a distant air.

"You're also wandering what's going on, aren't you?"

"There are many things which I'd like to know," she said, "but sometimes I'm afraid of searching for the answers."

"Well, maybe they are not as frightening as you think. Maybe I could lend you a hand on this one," he said, smiling to her. "What do you say?"

She only chuckled weakly and then she shook his head.

"They are not really important," she assured him. "The others are downstairs already. Hurry up or Barret will eat everything."

Cloud smiled and followed her, still puzzled by her words, but deciding to respect her privacy. Whatever it was, she would surely entrust it to him when she was ready.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

Night had come at last.

The others were already asleep in their beds. No one would notice her absence.

She had been inspecting her little finding and nothing had occurred. The small book wouldn't open, no matter how hard she tried. And nothing in its lid gave the slightest hint of how to open it; only two golden letters were engraved in the right lower corner: an L and a C. Maybe they were the initials of the owner, but she couldn't tell.

Deciding that maybe there was more inside, Yuffie sneaked out of the room she and Tifa shared and went to the Mansion. Now that she was sure that there were no ghosts inside it she could plunder at her heart's delight. During the day she could only search about her assigned area, now the entire Manor was at her disposal.

The front door cracked a bit when she slightly opened it to pass. She closed it without any problem and went to the upper floor.

And then it happened.

A melody reached her ears and she could do nothing but listen to it. She was almost paralyzed, not out of fear, but because the notes carried with them such a solemn beauty and sadness that it almost hurt to hear them.

She walked slowly to where the sound came: the grand lounge, where the piano was. The young ninja sat in the little corridor with her back leaning against the wall and next to the door, hugging her knees.

That might have been the ghost the townsfolk talked about. Strangely, she didn't feel fear, just a sudden sadness, listening to the music of the "petrified piano", as she had come to call the strange instrument. Out of the blue, she remembered her mother, dead at the hands of Shinra soldiers. But this time she didn't remember the moment when she passed away in her arms, like it had come to be the usual thing since then. She remembered all those moments she thought were lost forever, all those peaceful moments, when her mother was still alive; those that would never return, but that remained in her memory, engraved in her very soul.

Had the song been played in a bright morning, it would only have been considered a solemn hymn, a bit sad, but still beautiful. But late at night, when we are most vulnerable to our fears and sorrows, those notes could pierce even the thickest of shells. Or that was what Yuffie thought, for she herself felt as if her mother had died only hours before, when the shock had passed and the void she left behind was deeper, rather that years before.

And then she realized that the song itself told a story. It was a story of love and loss, and of the longing for the beloved one. Whoever composed it must have had his heart broken into thousand pieces. Each verse began to tell a part of the story, raising the intensity, to then fall and become almost a whisper, like when someone tried to say something and was overwhelmed with grief and his voice faltered because of the upcoming tears.

Yuffie didn't notice that she was sobbing uncontrollably and that her face was soaked with tears, until the piano stopped playing.

"_Stupid ghost,"_ she thought, rubbing her eyes. _"I didn't cry since mom died. I promised I would never do it again."_

"Yuffie…"

A deep voice called her. Maybe it was the ghost who came to retrieve another soul. She didn't care. She only wanted to be left alone and cry, to release all those tears she had never shed because she was afraid of being considered weak.

"Yuffie, what are you doing here?"

The girl wiped her face and looked up. It was Vincent who called her. He was standing right next to her in his full height.

"I…" she tried to speak as she got up, but words failed her.

He waited patiently until she was ready to speak. Until then, he searched for a switch and turned on the light in the corridor. That was when Yuffie saw that he wasn't wearing neither his right glove, nor his golden claw. Far from what she expected, his hands were totally normal; maybe a bit bony, like his face, but normal, nonetheless.

"So you are the ghost, uh?" she said at last.

He raised a dark eyebrow: "Ghost?"

"Yeah, the townsfolk said that there was a ghost who played the piano and that the songs made them cry and feel miserable."

Vincent snorted, his only sign of amusement: "I didn't know that my music was so awful."

"No!" she said, scratching her head in embarrassment. "No, it's beautiful but… geez! I don't know what happened to me."

"I'm sorry about that."

Yuffie looked at him, bewildered.

"This is a strange ability I have since I was a child," he explained. "I didn't know that someone would listen to it these days. But I have to ask you again, what are you doing here?"

The ninja felt out of place. Of all the reactions she had been expecting from him, sympathy was the last of them; that was why her mind, usually fast finding excuses and explanations, took a little more to elaborate a reason for her late visit.

"I came because I wanted to ask you something," she said, wondering if she wouldn't regret her decision.

From her oversized arm protector she took out the little diary and presented it to him.

"I found it this morning," she explained. "Since you lived here maybe you would know how to open it."

Vincent stared at the little book in silence. His cape hid the lower part of his face, but his eyes were visible through the black bangs which fell on his left side. Yuffie saw them widen when she drew out the diary.

He extended his right hand slowly and took it, frowning deeply.

"Where did you find this?" he asked without looking at her.

"It was inside a false bottom of a drawer, up in one of the bedrooms," she told the truth without knowing why. "It cost me a little to figure out how to open it, but I'm an expert at it."

She giggled faintly, trying to relieve some of her nerves.

"Thank you," he simply said with his impassive voice.

"I… uhm, I think I'll leave you alone," the girl hesitated, looking at the floor. Then she looked at him. "See you tomorrow, 'kay?"

He nodded and she took it as a signal for withdrawal. For once, she didn't mind to leave a place, even when it meant no loot for her.

Later at the inn, she burrowed under the covers, trying to shake that strange feeling off her mind.

Again, tears came and she couldn't contain them. Yuffie let them flow; let them wash away her sadness and regret. Two things she had forgotten on purpose that existed within her, and now they attacked her with such force that she felt overwhelmed.

She felt a hand on her shoulder and a soft shaking.

"Yuffie," it was Tifa. "Wake up, you have a nightmare."

She opened her eyes and realized for the first time that she had been hugging her pillow. The girl sat up, rubbing her eyes and trying to hide that she had been crying.

"You were sobbing too much to have a runny nose," said the other.

Yuffie didn't answer, and still was rubbing her eyes when Tifa said what she had feared.

"Where have you been?"

The ninja looked at the older girl, startled. Tifa just went back to her own bed and sat down.

"I woke up and saw your bed empty, so I thought you were in the bathroom, but when you didn't come in a while I began to worry."

"Oh, that," said Yuffie. "I was in the Mansion."

"That was dangerous!"

It was amazing how maternal Tifa could be.

"I know, but I wanted to see something. I… you know? The pianist is that Vincent guy."

"Really?"

"Yes. It's true that his songs are depressing."

"Do you know that what you have done is very dangerous?"

Yuffie stretched noisily.

"Yawn! I could sleep a whole week now," she said going back again to sleep and rolling over, ending the conversation.

Tifa snorted half annoyed and mimicked her. After a while, when her breath was steady enough, Yuffie laid again on her back and stared at the ceiling. No matter how hard she tried, sleep wouldn't come.

She wasn't the brooding kind of girl. Every adult she knew kept calling her "hyper, obnoxious brat". She was reckless, that she had to admit, and never thought much about her fails or about her emotions. Bringing Wutai back to its past glory was her mission, even if her father didn't approve it, and finding out Materia was crucial. To that, she had to become a Materia Hunter, and she had to be cunning, bold and careless about what others felt.

But that damned song kept playing inside her mind, over and over again, and those memories kept coming back. Yuffie cursed them. She had suppressed them over the years, feigning that she didn't care, that she was the most powerful warrior in the entire country and that she didn't need to feel regretful for anything she had done.

That night she felt again like that little girl who cried over her mother's dead body, who still wanted to be loved, to be cared for, and yet had to build a shell for herself to isolate from the world.

Now she had a group of people around her. Not everyone was very fond of her, but it was the closest thing to a family she knew since she had left Wutai.

A noise woke her from her musing and made her sit up, her hair standing on end. A deep howl could be heard in the distance. Maybe a Nibel Wolf was marking its territory. Or was it a human scream? She listened more intently, for the sound was very prolonged, until it faded.

It had been a human scream, there was no doubt; it had been full of anguish and rage. Could have been one of those sick people around the village?

Having a presentiment, Yuffie jumped off the bed and went to the window, from where they could see the Manor. No light was on.

"Yuffie" Tifa groaned. "Get back to sleep. Tomorrow we will have to walk a lot."

The ninja didn't know whether to tell her or not what had happened. But maybe she would be scolded for acting on her own. Not that she minded, but she wanted to stay with the group as long as possible.

Saying nothing, she returned to her bed, tucking the blankets over her head to block any unwanted sound, as she already had too many things inside her mind at that moment.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

End of Chapter 26.


	27. 27 Flying at Last

**Disclaimer:** Again, I don't own any character of Final Fantasy, any of them, much to my dismay (I wish I could own pre-psycho Sephiroth all to me, but it cannot be).

This fanfict has been inspired by the song of Yann Tiersen, "Comptine d'un Autre Étè".

Many thanks to everyone for their encouragement, corrections and ideas.

Note: the break continues and Cid makes his grand entrance!

Enjoy!

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

**CHAPTER ****27.**

XXXXXX-X-XXXXXX

The next morning Yuffie felt like she had been running a thousand miles. Of course she wouldn't tell anything about it, and she had begged Tifa to do the same. The older girl had been reluctant at first but, after telling her that nothing had happened and that Vincent wasn't dangerous, she had agreed, though not very convinced.

They had a quick breakfast, or as quick as Barret and Cloud would allow, for they would never permit to skip a meal. When they went out there was a cloaked figure sitting at the entrance, rocking and mumbling, like always, but what made Cloud turn his head were the words that the man was repeating like a psalmody.

"Sephiroth… Dark Materia… must aid him."

The group exchanged glances, alarmed. Cloud crouched in front of the man. He wanted him to see his face, despite the fact that his poisoned eyes were unfocussed. Maybe this time they could know where Sephiroth went.

"Did you say Sephiroth? Where is he?"

The man repeated the same words again and again, seemingly not paying attention.

"How aid Sephiroth?" Cloud tried.

"Temple of Ancients…" he groaned. "Must go… South… jungle… must aid him."

Cloud felt like all his blood was drained out of his body

"What?" he gasped. Then he grabbed the man by the shoulders and shook him. "What do you mean? What south?"

"Island… to the south… jungle… must aid him."

The young man let him go and his hand went to his blonde spikes as he bowed the head.

"Don't tell me we're on the wrong direction!"

Barret cursed loudly while the rest remained in silence. Only Caith Sith seemed to react.

"Maybe I know what this man is talking about," he said. Cloud rose to his feet and all looked at the toy. He cleared his throat before speaking again. "There is an island to the South, that's right. And there happens to be an ancient building. They say that it was built by the Cetra."

"But if Sephiroth is going there," said Tifa, "how are we going to catch them? We are in the other extreme of the continent."

"Don't worry," said the toy with his characteristic carefree demeanor. "At the other side of the mountains it's Rocket Town. We can borrow an airplane there and fly to the island."

"Are you sure of that?" asked Cloud.

"Right sure!" exclaimed Caith merrily as he bounced away. It was irritating how happy he always was. But he was a toy, after all. "C'mon! Our new friend is waiting for us!"

Said gunman was indeed waiting for them outside the village, at the beginning of the path. He saluted them with a court and silent nod upon reaching the point. Cloud told him the news as they walked and they were received by a single "All right" by the silent man.

Yuffie looked at him, worried. Nothing transpired from his impassible face. Under the light of the sun he looked even paler and thinner, though his garments were bulky enough to disguise it. Cloud had made the numbers and said that Vincent had been sleeping for almost thirty years. She shuddered at the thought of being alone for so long in the same place. No wonder that he played the piano and that his songs were so depressing.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

At the dawn of the next day they could see the valley of the Rocket Launch Area. The townsfolk in Nibelheim were right about crossing the mountains at night. They had only an encounter, but one single shot of Vincent's gun was enough to drive the Nibel Wolves away.

The group was silent and they marched hastily. Knowing that Sephiroth and Aerith were ahead of them was alarming, but to discover that they were at the other side of the continent was terrifying, and Cloud didn't stop blaming himself for that.

"_I should have questioned that __Dio guy further,"_ he kept on repeating to himself. _"What if something happens to her?"_

And he did think about all the horrible things that Aerith might be suffering at that very moment, but he blocked them, because they made him sick with guilt and remorse. He should concentrate on their mission. He was the leader of the group. If he showed any doubt all would be doomed.

Cloud turned his head towards the rest. Barret was right behind him with Tifa, then Yuffie and Caith Sith, and closing the small company were Nanaki and Vincent.

At first he had felt sympathy for their shared past with Shinra, but last night he had heard a deep howl coming from the Mansion. Whether it had been Vincent or some of the black hooded people he didn't know, but the next morning he was normal (if one would consider normal to be deadly pale and look like you were made only of skin and bones and still be able to move and to talk). Whatever secret did the gunman hide, he hid it well.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

Rocket Town was a little village settled half kilometer away from the real launch pad. All its inhabitants had mechanical knowledge, for everyone had worked in the Space Program of Shinra long ago, when there were many plans about sending people to outer space, but the launch number twenty six was a failure and said program was cancelled. The reminder of those days was said failed rocket which still sat, half inclined, among the launch platform. It was like a monument for the inhabitants. Not a monument to failure, but one of hope, because as long as the rocket still sat there it could take flight anytime, and the village still had a reason to exist.

Asking around, they learned that there was only one plane in the entire town, and that its owner, whom they simply called the Captain, was a very jealous man where his possessions were concerned. They were also told they might find him at his home, should they wanted to talk with him, but they received the warning that the Captain was a very grumpy man, so they shouldn't expect any warm welcoming. Cloud and Tifa went to his home, while the rest waited for them at the inn or just hanging around.

No one answered the door, so they tried at the back yard, which was directly connected to a land strip. There it was the aircraft itself.

The plane was not very big, but it looked like it could harbor a little group like them. And it wasn't a proper plane, but a hydroplane, to land over shallow waters. It was painted in red, or had been painted, because the sun had dyed the color and now it looked rather pink in the upper part, while on the belly it was still bright red, and on its side they could still read a name in blue letters: Tiny Bronco.

"So that's the transport, uh?" said Tifa.

"It seems so," Cloud responded, half climbing the fence.

Just when they were about to plan what they were going to do, a woman appeared through the back door. She could have been rather pretty, if she just took off the enormous round glasses and fixed a bit her chestnut hair, which was arranged in a strange mix between a ponytail and a bun, precariously fastened with a long pen. She also wore a white lab coat like a scientist, but it was a bit soiled with black motor grease.

"Excuse me," she said approaching the fence. "May I help you?"

"In fact," said Cloud, "we were wondering if we could borrow or rent the plane."

"If you would like to use it, please ask the Captain," said the woman. "The Captain should be in the Rocket. I'm Shera. And what are your names?"

"My name's Cloud, and this is Tifa. The rest of the group is waiting at the inn."

"Hmm.... So you're not with the Shinra," the woman's shoulders slumped a bit. "I thought the approval for the reopening of the Space Program has finally come."

"What?"

"President Rufus is scheduled to come here" she explained. "The Captain's been so restless all morning. You can find him at the rocket if you want to talk to him. Now if you'll excuse me."

She left them with a shy and polite smile.

"Rufus Shinra?" said Cloud climbing down the fence. "I think it's getting worse by the moment."

"We cannot give up yet," said Tifa. "C'mon, let's go to the rocket."

So they went to the rocket almost running, so big was their haste. They climbed the stairs which led to the only door, which happened to be open at the moment; Cloud went in, while Tifa remained at the entrance, just in case she could see any trace of Rufus or his escort.

Inside there was a small corridor. To the right there was a tramp door in the floor, maybe connecting to the engine room, to the left a ladder sat on the opposite wall, leading to another trapdoor in the ceiling and further to the left there was a door, but it was currently blocked by the crouching figure of a man.

Cloud cleared his throat and that man got up and faced him.

He was only a bit taller than Cloud, but older. He peered at him with piercing blue eyes, like the ones of a hawk, while he scratched his five-days beard with a gloved hand. He was a tough looking man, with short clipped, platinum blond hair, almost as unruly as Cloud's, and kept out of his face by a pair of goggles, on which he had fastened a pack of cigarettes. He was maybe in his thirties but, even when he had a flying jacket on, one could see that he was a built man. Not as bulky as Barret, but he still could put a fight.

"What're you doin' here?" he asked.

"We heard the Captain was here," said Cloud.

He laughed, and the cigarette he was holding in his mouth almost fell off.

"Captain? I'm the Captain!" he signaled himself with the wrench he had in his hand. "Name's Cid, Everyone calls me 'Captain', though. What d'ya want?"

Cloud knew that this was the kind of men who needed to be a befriended before being asked for a favor, so he chose what he figured it would be his favorite matter.

"I wish to know about this rocket."

As he expected, Cid's blue eyes shone and his gesture softened.

"Wow! Not bad for a kid," he exclaimed. "Alright then, I'll explain it to you."

And he told Cloud about Shinra's Space Program. Not that Cloud hadn't heard it before, but Cid talked with such emphasis and he looked at his rocket with such pride and love, that he didn't dare to utter a single word.

"And finally we get to the day of the launch. Everything was goin' well..." he said and then he kicked a wall. "But, because of that dumb-ass Shera, the launch got messed up. That's why they became so anal! And so, Shinra nixed their outer space exploration plans. After they told me how the future was Space Exploration and got my damn hopes up... DAMN THEM! Then, it was all over once they found out Mako energy was profitable. They didn't even so much as look at space exploration. My dream was just a financial number for them! Look at this busted Rocket. I was supposed to be the first man in space with this. Every day, it tilts a little bit more. At this rate, I don't know which will come first, this thing falling down or me gettin' outta here. My last hope is to talk to the President..."

"What?" said Cloud. "Is Rufus coming?"

"Yeah! It must be news about restarting the Space Program," Cid's face lightened up again. "A young President, that's what we need! He still has dreams, too!"

Cloud shook his head. Rufus' dreams only consisted in world domination, not a mere control like his father. He only wanted to strike fear in people's hearts and who knew what he was planning to do with the rocket.

"Also," Cloud began tentatively, "we'd like to borrow or to rent your Tiny Bronco…"

That was a wrong thing to ask for.

"You out of your fuckin' mind!?" Cid exploded. "That's my most cherished possession. I can't let you take it."

"Is something the matter?" came a female voice form the door.

It was Tifa, who came inside alerted by Cid's yells. She thought that maybe Cloud needed assistance, and she had the best timing, because Cid was left speechless.

"Oh, Tifa," said Cloud. "This one here is the Captain we have heard of."

"You can call me Cid, missie," said Cid, suddenly smiling and tending a hand to her. When she took his hand he surprisingly bent over and kissed hers, in a courteous way that suited neither his behavior nor his look. It made Tifa blush and feel quite uncomfortable, despite being already used to be a barmaid and the target of customers' antics.

"_So that's your weak spot, you old scoundrel,"_ thought Cloud. But of course he would never take advantage of that, mostly because it would involve Tifa and because he himself found his hand twitching at the sight of that man kissing Tifa's hand. But he had to remain calm. He had to remind himself that it was natural. Barret was used already to have her around, so he didn't care; as for Vincent, maybe he was either too chivalrous or too cold to show any reaction.

"But sadly Cid says that he can't lend us his plane," Cloud said, hoping to take advantage from another side.

"Hum, did I say that?" Cid laughed again. "What a dumbass I can be! Of course I can take you to wherever y'want! Say, where are our lovebirds goin' to?"

Cloud and Tifa looked at each other. That man thought they were an eloping pair.

"Actually," she said, trying to ignore her red cheeks, "we are a group. We need to go to the South and cross the ocean."

"Oh," his shoulders slumped in bewilderment, "is that so? Ha! For a moment I thought other things! Just lookin' at how your man was hoverin' 'round you… Then let's not say any more. Go to my home an' wait for me there, ok? I still gotta lot to do here."

They agreed to do so, and when they were about to climb down the ladder, Cloud could hear the man muttering.

"A damn fine gal, yes sir. Such a lucky spiky-haired bastard…"

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

They didn't discuss Cid's behavior while walking back to the village. Cloud felt uncomfortable enough with the words of the pilot.

"_Do I really hover around her?"_ he thought.

He had never questioned such things towards Tifa. The reason why they stuck together was that they knew each other since they were children and that they shared the same grief. That was all.

Wasn't it?

He had to admit that he sometimes was a bit overprotective with her. She was more than capable of defending herself, but the mere thought of something happening to her…

He thought back to when he and Aerith had to enter Don Corneo's Mansion to rescue Tifa. He even had gone so far as to cross-dress to help her, and he did it so well that the Don chose him over Tifa and Aerith. That old man surely had to be senile; even with that dress one could see the muscles beneath, and even with the make up one could tell that he was a man. But he had been thankful, for that choice saved both girls from having been touched by that pervert. Instead, it had been his rear which had been slapped on the way to the bedroom. Thank Odin that things didn't go further.

The chores a man had to endure for a friend.

"_You look so cute together!"_ said Aerith when they were out of the Don's house.

He shook his head. Tifa was only a good friend, he could never think of her in any other way, no matter how attractive she was. It seemed wrong.

"Cloud, look," said Tifa.

They were now near the inn now. The rest of the group was at the entrance. They didn't seem very pleased, and all surrounded Caith Sith, as if guarding him.

"What's the matter?" asked Cloud.

"What's the matter, you say?" answered Barret and he pointed at the toysaurus. "This is the figgin' matter! He's a goddamned spy, man!"

The pair looked at Caith as if they didn't understand at first.

"Caith…" gasped Tifa. "Why…?"

"He was absent after you left," said Nanaki. "We thought that he might be with you, but when we came out we found him talking with Shinra employees."

"Yeah!" Barret continued. "He has been givin' away what we were doin' all the time!"

"I won't run or hide," interrupted Caith with more calm than it was expected. "Yes, I was a spy. I was hired by the Shinra."

"We trusted you," Yuffie exclaimed. "How could you?"

"I couldn't help it," said Catih. "How 'bout if we continue like nothing ever happened?"

"No way, cat!" it was Cloud's turn to get angry. "You gotta lot of guts acting like a friend but being a spy!"

"Then what are you goin' to do? Kill me? You'd just be wastin' your time if you tried. This body's just a toy anyway. My real body's at Shinra Headquarters in Midgar. I'm controllin' this toy cat from there."

"Who are you?" the ex-SOLDIER was getting angrier by the moment.

"Whoa, I can't tell you my name!"

"We are not getting anywhere…"

"See? I told you! Talking won't do any good, so can't we just continue our journey?"

"You think I'm jokin'!?" exploded Cloud.

"...Alright, yes, I am a Shinra employee. But we're not entirely enemies... Something bothers me. I think it's your way of life. You don't get paid. You don't get praised. Yet, you still risk your lives and continue on your journey. Seeing that makes me... It just makes me think about my life. I don't think I'd feel too good if things ended the way they are now."

"You're only a blabbermouth!" said Yuffie.

"He'll never tell the truth," said Cloud to the others. "Once a spy, always a spy. We can't go on with someone like that. C'mon, get real!!"

Caith's little shoulders slumped and he shook his head.

"...just as I thought. Talking won't make a bit of difference. But I prepared something in case this happened. Why don't you listen to this?"

He took out a little transceiver and pressed a button. A little voice sounded through the speaker.

"Papa! Tifa!"

"Marlene!" yelled Barret. "What have ya done to my daughter?"

"...So, you have to do as I say," said Caith turning the transceiver off. "I didn't want to do this… using dirty tricks and taking hostages. But this is how it is... no compromises. So why don't we continue on as we did?"

"You're the lowest…" growled Cloud.

"Then we have no choice," said Vincent, who was the only one who still remained calm. "As much as it disgusts me, he's right."

"All right," Cloud sighed. "You will come along, but if your actions put any of us in peril I swear I'll find out who you are and I will hunt you down, is that clear?"

"Clear as water," said Caith. It was unnerving how carefree he always was. "Now, have you solved our little transportation problem?"

Though he just wanted to maim that damned toy, he had to obey and explain them that they had to go to Cid's house to arrange the trip.

But when they arrived at his home he still wasn't there.

"Did the Captain say anything?" Shera asked Cloud after she had welcomed the party.

"No."

"Oh…"

At that moment Cid stormed through the front door, startling everyone.

"Shit!" he blurted. "Shera! Are you blind? We got guests! Get some tea!!"

"S-sorry," the woman murmured and hurried to the stove.

"Really," said Cloud to ease the tension. "Don't mind us."

"Shut up! Sit your ass down in that chair and drink your goddamn tea! Shera! I'll be in the backyard tunin' up Tiny Bronco! An' make sure to serve them some tea! All right!?"

And he went away through the back door. He had to be really angry, if even Tifa's presence wasn't capable of placating him.

"Sheesh…!! What bad manners!" said Yuffie.

"Sorry. It's our fault," said Cloud to Shera.

The woman turned to them. Though she was smiling, they could see that she was on the verge of tears.

"No, no. He's always like this."

"Is it always like this?" asked Tifa. "Why is Cid so hard on you?"

"No… It's because of my stupid mistake. I was the one who destroyed his dream…"

"What happened?" asked Yuffie.

"I was in charge of the oxygen tanks' maintenance," she explained. "There was a tank which bothered me. The results were not satisfying, so I checked it again just before the launch. But it took me more time that I initially thought, so the countdown started with me still in the engine room."

"That was dangerous!" said Tifa.

"I know, but if one of the tanks failed, the entire rocket would have been in serious problems. I didn't mind dying, if it meant aiding him. Anyway, he noticed and ordered me to get out of there by the intercom, but I continued with the adjustments."

A shadow passed before her face as she sighed deeply.

"He pushed the Emergency Engine Shut Down switch, aborting the mission to save my life. After that, the Space Program was cut back and the launch was canceled. It's my fault his dream was destroyed. That's why… it's all right. I don't care what the Captain says; I'll live my life for him."

Tifa was about to voice her indignation when the backdoor banged open and Cid came back.

"Shera! You still haven't served 'em tea!" he yelled, gaining a deep frown from Vincent.

"I… I'm sorry," she said, turning again to the stove.

Cid ignored the looks he received and sat down noisily, hoisting a leg up onto the table.

"Can't take off 'til I talk to Shinra, so hurry up and sit down!" he said to Cloud. "Or ain't my hospitality good enough for you!?"

No one answered or moved, but he was oblivious, so impatient he had grown.

"They're late… Where is Rufus…?" he muttered.

The front door opened and a fat man entered.

"Hey-HEY!" he saluted. "Long time no see! So Cid, how ya been?"

It was difficult to recognize him, but there was no doubt that he was Palmer, only that this time he wasn't cowering and whimpering. He appeared quite happy this time and acted quite childish for a man of his age.

Cid didn't mind if he was happy and acted like a fool. The pilot jumped out of the chair and ran to him.

"Well, if it ain't fat man, Palmer. How long were you figurin' on keepin' me waitin'!?" he said. "So? When's the Space Program gonna start up again?"

"Hey-hey! I don't know. The President's outside, so why don't you ask him?" said Palmer a bit nervous.

"Shit!" Cid spat. "Good for nothing, fat asshole!"

And he ran out of the house. Yuffie followed him, as did Vincent. Barret and Tifa stayed inside and peered through the windows while the dark skinned man held Caith with one hand to prevent a possible escape.

"Don't say 'fat'," Palmer protested to the half-opened door. Then he turned around, for his nose had detected a delicious aroma.

He hovered to Shera and began clapping his hands like a little child.

"Hey-hey! Tea!" he said. "Can I have some too? With lotsa sugar and honey and... oh yeah, don't forget the lard!"

Trying to ignore how much his stomach churned at the last petition, Cloud decided to peep through the door at the meeting. The ninja and the gunman were near the entrance, blocking his vision; but he could still hear what Cid was yelling.

"What the…! You got me all excited for nothing!? Then, what'd you come here for?"

"I want to borrow the Tiny Bronco," came the calm and polite voice of the President. "Your plane is perfect for landing in the jungle. I could borrow a Gelnika, but those airships can only land at the base we have at that island, and it's quite far from our real destination."

"Fuck! First the Airship, then the Rocket, and now, the Tiny Bronco. Shinra took outer space away from me and now you want to take the sky away from me too!?"

Cloud heard Rufus chuckling.

"Oh my…" he said. "You seem to forget it was because of Shinra, Inc. that you were able to fly in the first place."

"What?!" Cid exclaimed.

What followed next was surely a round of imaginative insults, but Cloud wasn't able to hear them, because he felt a hand on his back. He turned and saw Shera. She seemed a bit nervous.

"You wanted to use the Tiny Bronco, right?" she asked.

"Yeah…"

The rest went out of the window and Tifa called for Vincent and Yuffie.

Now that he looked around, he couldn't see Palmer.

"I believe Palmer's going to take it," said Shera. "Why don't you talk to him?"

"Shit…" Cloud murmured as he ran for the backdoor, followed by the rest. Of course he couldn't see Palmer. He had sneaked out like the coward he was.

And outside he was, sitting in the pilot seat with the door still open. He seemed to be figuring out how to fly with it.

"Hmm…" he mumbled as he fumbled with the controls. "Why do I have to do this...? I'm the head of the Space Program…"

"Hey!"

Cloud's yell made the fat man jump out of the seat and fall, face first, on the ground.

"So you're trying to steal it, uh?" the ex-SOLDIER decided that he couldn't be very hard on someone so pathetic, so he chose a simple tell off, like the one he would say to a child. "We'll take the Tiny Bronco."

Palmer didn't hear him, he was very busy getting up and dusting his suit. When he looked at them at last he just stood there, a stupid expression in his face.

"I've seen you somewhere before…" he said, scratching his head. As recognition hit his brain, he began to yell in terror. "I know! The Shinra building! When the President was killed! Se… se… security!! Help me!!"

And he ran away, rounding the house to ask for help. That was the moment for them to enter the plane.

But there was a problem: when Cloud yelled and startled Palmer, the man lowered a lever as he fell off the cabin. And it happened to be the right lever one had to move in order to ignite the motors, but no one but Cid knew, for that plane was especially made by him. The main consequence was that the propellers began to spin, faster and faster, and the hydroplane began to march slowly through the landing strip.

With effort, Cloud could open the door and aid everyone to climb aboard, which wasn't too difficult, because the plane hasn't picked up speed yet. He was the last, just after Vincent (he wondered how the ex-Turk could run so fast with those metallic attachments on his boots). Cloud heard a shout and a blasphemy behind him when he was inside by now and the plane was already pretty fast for a running pursuit; he knew Cid was pursuing them. He looked behind and extended his arm, shouting him to run faster. The pilot could grab his hand and climb aboard at last. When he did so he didn't utter a word and hurried to the cockpit, after tossing Cloud the lance he was wielding. No one asked why he was carrying that or how he could possibly grab it, but after witnessing the argument with Rufus it was clear that things had heated up a bit too much.

"A'righ' numbskulls!" Cid yelled to his passengers. "We're takin' off and those bastards are shootin' at us, so hold onto your drawers and don't piss in 'em!"

They did hold onto something, which happened to be their seats, while they heard one or two shots from behind. But soon the plane was lifting its nose and escaping. Cid was a good pilot and he maneuvered the Bronco so no bullet hit it and they could get away safely.

Only when they were flying above the Nibel Mountains he spoke to Cloud, who was sitting next to him.

"Ok, laddie," he said. "Seems like we're safe fer now."

"What happened down there?"

"Rufus got angry," Cid explained. "New president, my arse! He's even worse than his old man! Wanted to take my baby away from me, the bastard!"

"But, what are you going to do now?"

"Dunno," he shrugged. "I'm history with the Shinra and I've given up on the town already."

"How about your wife? How about Shera?" the last thing he wanted was to turn a normal man into a fugitive.

"Wife?" he barked. "Don't make me laugh! Just thinkin' 'bout marryin' her gives me the chills. What're you guys gonna do?"

Forgetting the harsh words, he concentrated on the matter at hand.

"We are pursuing a man named Sephiroth. We believe he's heading for an island to the south. Anyway, we'll have to get Rufus of Shinra someday too."

"I don't know anythin' 'bout it," said Cid. "But, what the hell? Sign me up!"

"How about it, everyone?" Cloud turned and asked the rest.

There were no objections so, after Caith gave the coordinates of the island to Cid, they could truly hope that the end of their journey was near. The man even promised them that it wouldn't take them more than a day to reach their destination, so it would make a total of five days and a half since they left the Gold Saucer to when they would set foot on the Temple. The rest of the group was comfortable enough, except for Yuffie, who suffered from airsickness as well as from seasickness. For once she was quiet, reclined in her seat and with her eyes closed.

"So, Cloud," said Cid when the course was set. "I heard that Sephiroth was dead five years ago, what's happenin'."

The ex-SOLDIER told him the same story he had told to Vincent.

"Hah! So all's 'bout savin' the damsel in distress, huh?" the pilot said nodding. "Awright, we'll save that chick and kick that bastard's butt 'till next year!"

Cloud smirked; he didn't seem a bad guy after all.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**


	28. 28 Painful Truth

**Disclaimer:** Again, I don't own any character of Final Fantasy, any of them, much to my dismay (I wish I could own pre-psycho Sephiroth all to me, but it cannot be).

This fanfict has been inspired by the song of Yann Tiersen, "Comptine d'un Autre Étè".

Many thanks to everyone for their encouragement, corrections and ideas.

Enjoy!

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

**CHAPTER ****28.**

_"Oh Adam's sons, how cleverly you defend yourselves against all that might do you good!"_

_**Aslan in "The Magician's Nephew" - The Chronicles of Narnia **__**(C. S. Lewis.)**_

XXXXXX-X-XXXXXX

South of the Junon Area there was an island; save for the military base set at the Northern part it was completely deserted. That fact and the tropical climate contributed to create a dense jungle and, since Mako didn't reach the required levels for a reactor's activity, the zone was unexplored and unexploited, except for the few botanical expeditions to study the rare species of flowers and trees.

Masamune cut easily the many bushes and branches blocking their way. They had arrived at dawn at the military base, sneaking again inside a plane, and spent the morning walking among the vegetation. Aerith wasn't so distant by the time they were outside the base and that was something, but she still refused to make eye contact with him.

He couldn't blame her, however, for he had seen her eyes filled with embarrassment, bewilderment and longing, though he doubted that last part and wondered if it wasn't a trick of his own mind.

He pushed away those thoughts and concentrated on finding the Temple. After he had retrieved what Mother required they would have to travel to the North Crater, and that trip would take them a good deal of time. Maybe then he would be able to make some progress finding a way to save Aerith and fulfill at the same time Mother's wishes.

_Mother's wishes._

Doubt assailed him again. He wanted to rely on Mother, but there were things that didn't fit into place. She only said she wanted to cleanse the Planet, but never stated how exactly she was going to do so. She said she needed to gather souls and that she needed Aerith's powers, and it was more than probable that she would die in the process, but never revealed why it had to be that girl, the last descendant of the Cetra, when the souls of her ancestors surely still lingered in the Lifestream.

And he didn't want that to happen. Someway he had come attached to the girl and he didn't want to lose her, but no matter how much time he spent thinking, inspiration didn't come.

Mother didn't communicate with him since that night on the cliff, when she had punished him. And he didn't miss it. It was disturbing the way she intruded in his mind and saw what she wished, even his deepest doubts; and how she could make his attacks come back, when she had promised to cure him.

His musing was interrupted when Aerith touched lightly his arm. He looked down, mildly surprised at her behavior, for she had avoided any kind of contact lately. To his questioning glance, she averted her eyes shyly, but it was clear that she was greatly disturbed, and that apparently the source wasn't him.

"I… I feel something," she said.

"Something like what?" he asked. She had stopped and was trying not to tremble.

"I don't know, it's strange," she said hugging herself and rubbing her arms as if she was freezing, which was almost impossible in that warm environment.

"The Temple of the Ancients was constructed by your people," he explained. "Maybe what you feel are the remains of the magic they used to protect it."

Aerith looked at him with her eyes full of fear. Sephiroth extended one had to her.

"You will be safe with me," he assured her.

As she timidly extended her hand, he questioned himself about that last statement. He squeezed lightly her tiny hand as they walked together, trying to think fast about what he could possibly do about their situation. Leaving her behind was a possibility, but with her friends heading in the opposite direction thanks to his instructions to Dio it would be very difficult. Maybe in their travel to the North he could leave her in Midgar again, or whatever place she chose.

Yes, that would work, at least for a time, until he could convince Mother that the girl was not necessary.

He smiled slightly at the irony of their situation as she walked by his side, now with her two hands grasping his own. Whatever it was what she felt in the air made her cling to him for protection. How could she think that she would be safe with him when he was still carrying her to her death?

He had never felt protective or caring in his entire life, from what he remembered, but now he experienced practically the urge to take her and run far, very far away, to where no one could ever find them.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

They got out at last from the mass of vegetation to come across with a massive pyramidal construction, surrounded by what looked like a natural trench, with a hanging bridge connecting the structure to the jungle. A flight of steps rose from the base to the entrance, the only aperture in the whole building.

Sephiroth himself had a sense of foreboding, as if what was inside the pyramid was not meant to be disturbed. Still, he remembered that Mother had entrusted him that mission because she relied on his capabilities. They would be safe.

But it wasn't anything about them being in peril that made him reluctant to enter. He had always been sure about what he was doing for Mother. Now he was afraid, not for the first time in the last days, about discovering that his increasing doubts would prove to be founded.

They crossed the hanging bridge and climbed the stairs. The Keystone already buzzed lightly in his pocket, as if sensing its place of origin.

When they crossed the threshold only a small room greeted them. There was a platform and a little altar at the end of the space and several columns arrayed along each sidewall. Sephiroth approached the place with Aerith next to him. She said nothing, but she was trembling almost visibly and she looked as if she were ill. They ought to be out of there as soon as possible.

The Keystone was placed upon the semi-spherical carving and began to glow intensely. Then the altar began to tremble and move, retracting until it was buried in the wall, opening a staircase leading down the building. It wasn't pitch-black, though; as they walked down the first corridor they saw that there were torches alight, whose source had to be magical. After that they had to go down again and turn, to walk down a longer passage, and more stairs leading to the depths of the Temple. At the end of a very long corridor there was a room, and it seemed like they had reached the end of their way.

It was a rectangular chamber, with columns arrayed at each side of the central path and torches placed on each pillar. Aerith felt nauseated when they entered; sitting on a marble altar there was a sphere, larger than any Materia and darker than the deepest of shadows. She knew the source of her discomfort was that black sphere, and she knew that it was another kind of Materia, but it concentrated too much malignancy for her to stand.

Soon she forgot about the altar and about her giddiness, because Sephiroth had let go of her hands and was staring at the painted murals. There were ancient carvings and pictures all along the walls, and strange inscriptions under them. Soon she knew what they meant: they told the story of the Calamity from the Skies, just as her mother had told her so long ago. And there was more.

According to the carvings, someone misused the Black Materia's power and something was called: Meteor. It crashed upon the Planet, wounding it severely. And inside that meteor was a creature: Jenova, the Calamity from the Skies.

After Jenova's arrival, ghosts of the deceased ones appeared to the living, attracting them to where the meteor had crashed, and then she infected them, turning those people into monsters. It developed just as her mother had taught her. After that there was another picture of a great creature connected to the ground; it had four wings and it seemed to leech the Lifestream out of the Planet. Under that being and over the face of the earth there was a winged and horned beast, harvesting the souls of the living.

She had seen them in her dreams over the last days, but she still didn't know what they were or what purpose they served.

They followed many other images of people gathered for preaching around a green Materia, inside a seashell-like building, and then many people gathered for battle outside it. Leading the army was a feminine figure, with golden lock and clad in a white tunic and golden armor; she wielded a bow made of silver and a blue stone hung from her neck.

Aerith looked at Sephiroth. He had his eyes fixed upon the army's enemy: Another female figure ruling over hordes of monsters and attached to the giant four-winged beast, but this woman had two black bat-like wings, her gown was made with the souls of the dead, she wielded a staff and her locks were silver.

_Silver locks._

_Jenova._

Aerith shivered at the realization. That monster was what he called "mother".

"So the story was true," he whispered.

She couldn't see his face, and couldn't think of what she should say. Aerith watched him as he walked to the Black Materia's altar, standing just few steps away.

"She said this could aid her to cleanse the Planet," he said aloud, though the girl wondered if he was really speaking for her. His voice was toneless, void.

All of a sudden, Sephiroth kneeled and punched the stone floor with a loud growl, making a hole and cracking the stone slabs around his fist. Aerith flinched at his outburst, not knowing if she wanted to run away or to go to him. He stood there, breathing hard, before hiding his face behind the punching hand.

That was all, he was broken. He had lived out of his own delusions, believing what Jenova had told him, maybe because he really needed to believe in something, and that abomination hadn't planned that the very place what held what she wanted might contain as well the key to uncover her deception.

Maybe now he would let her go. Maybe now he would understand at last that she was right, that Jenova was an enemy. She knew she should be happy about that.

But the truth was that she couldn't feel that way, not even if she tried.

"I'm sorry," she dared to mutter.

He got up without looking at her.

"Why?" he asked, still emotionless. "You have won. You were right."

"But you're suffering because of it," she said, realizing as she did so how much his turbulence affected her.

The swordsman turned to her. His face was grim, but his eyes softened upon locking on hers.

"I was wrong," he said and, for the first time, instead of a mere glimpse, Aerith fully saw the human beneath his mask of stone. He was hurt beyond words, in his heart and in his pride.

And it pained her to see him that way.

She shook her head and approached him until she was at arm's reach.

"Jenova tricked many of my people," she said. "But it's good that you saw it in time."

He smiled softly, the first true smile she had ever seen on him, free of malice or bitterness, but full of sorrow.

"Then what you told me might prove true," he said, referring to her pendant.

She smiled back.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"I should be the one thanking you," he said.

Aerith gazed at him; her eyes were a bit teary.

"Then let's get out," she said

He nodded and she giggled.

Aerith took one of his hands and began to drag him merrily towards the exit, when Sephiroth heard a soft click in the distance and he caught a glimpse of something shinning in the far end of the tunnel.

A thunder exploded inside the passage and Aerith fell backwards. He could only catch her in his arms as she fell. She was white and her eyes were closed, all her features relaxed. Soon he understood what had happened: A bullet-hole tore her garments, which now were stained in crimson red, right above her heart.

He was speechless, his breath caught in his throat. He heard footsteps behind him, emerging from the passage, and he turned his head, still cradling her.

There he was in his dark suit, smirking at him, triumphant at last.

"You made it quite hard for me," Tseng said. "But it was worth it."

Sephiroth laid Aerith's body gently on the stone floor and stood apart from her, Masamune now in his hand, humming softly.

"Why?" he grunted, though his voice wasn't filled with anger. He didn't feel anything now, just a cold calm. Now nothing meant anything for him, not Jenova, or Meteor, or even the Planet itself.

"I just felt like it," said Tseng, aiming now at him and still smiling. "She was fun to kill, despite the fact that the Company needed her. But I could always blame you. You are the monster, remember? Made to serve us, nothing more. And, besides, who would believe a monster could have such soft feelings towards a woman?"

Sephiroth lunged towards him, Masamune singing with blood-lust. Tseng fired, but the swordsman parried each bullet with his sword. Only the glow in his green eyes told of his anger and wrath.

The blow was precise and strong, making Tseng kneeling and then falling to the stone floor. He wasn't dead, though. Sephiroth had been most careful not to kill him at once. Masamune was thirsty, and he was going to quench that thirst as slowly as Tseng's vitality would allow it.

_This pain.__ This void. I felt this before, didn't I?_

_I did. I can't remember when or how, but I did._

He lifted his sword again. He was going to paralyze him, and then he would tear each limb, one by one, as painfully as possible.

He heard a scream behind him.

"Sephiroth, no!"

Sephiroth spun around. Aerith was lying on her side, clutching her left shoulder and looking at him with her face twisted in pain and desperation.

Forgetting Tseng completely, he sheathed his sword and rushed to her side, lifting her body delicately to his lap. She whimpered at the movement, but he cradled her, trying to calm her. The swordsman noted how the pendant glowed dully. Surely its protection was what saved her.

"Sephiroth," she whispered, "Tseng…"

"Tseng is not dead," he replied, keeping her close to him. "I didn't kill him."

"Thanks," she said.

He heard footsteps again, this time they were hurried as someone entered the room.

"Oh my goodness! Tseng!" cried a feminine voice.

He turned his head and saw a blonde girl dressed as a Turk over Tseng's body. She was checking for vital signs quickly; then she stripped off her jacket to try to contain the hemorrhage, when she looked up.

Her honey eyes widened as she drew out her gun, aiming at Sephiroth. She didn't notice Aerith, for the swordsman was blocking her view.

More footsteps.

"Elena, what… holy shit!" a redheaded Turk cried upon seeing the scene. Another Turk, bald and dark-skinned followed him, but he didn't say a thing.

_Reno and Rude._

Reno followed the line of Elena's aim and his aqua eyes widened in surprise. As an answer to his unspoken question, Sephiroth got up and turned, carrying the wounded Aerith in his arms. Elena gasped, withdrawing her gun moments after.

"Elena, how's him?" asked Reno.

"He is still alive," answered Sephiroth. "He should thank Aerith that I spared his life, but he won't survive too long if you don't take him out of here."

The redhead signaled to Rude and the tall man went to take Tseng in his arms. He and Elena hurried down the corridor, their footsteps echoing in the distance, fading away and leaving them at last in silence.

Reno stared at the pair. Aerith looked too still.

"Is she…?" he began.

"She is alive," said Sephiroth stiffly. His eyes left no doubt about what he intended to do to anyone who dared to threaten the girl's life.

"Good. Tell her…" the redhead began, quite serious for what he remembered of him. "Tell her that it wasn't his fault. Hojo began to experiment with him and he turned our boss into a psychotic bastard."

Aerith gasped softly in the swordsman's arms, so softly only he could have heard her.

"I'm sorry we couldn't stop him," Reno continued as he strode backwards towards the exit. "Just… take care of her, ok?"

He turned around and began running after his comrades. Only when his footsteps died away, did Sephiroth began to move towards the exit too. Aerith sniffed softly. He didn't need to look down to see that she was crying, and he didn't need to muse to know that those tears were of joy.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

When they emerged from the Temple the Turks had already departed. Sephiroth led Aerith to a tranquil clearing to tend her wound.

As he carried her, Sephiroth had time to think back to the moment when he had thought she was dead. His chest tightened remembering how pale she was, how her blood stained her clothes, and he instinctively squeezed her gently against him. She hadn't fainted, which was good, but also she didn't utter a word, but he blamed it on the pain and the shock.

They came at last to a clearing. He gently laid her on the grass, and began examining her wound.

"It's not possible!" he gasped, bewildered.

The bullet wasn't in her shoulder, as he had thought when he found out that she was alive. Tseng aimed for her heart and he hadn't missed. Still, the bullet hadn't even entered completely, and the flat rear of the projectile was visible through the blood, being at the same level as the skin.

"I'll have to extract it," he told her.

Aerith nodded, already biting her lower lip.

"Hold on to me," he said.

She complied, grabbing his lapels and squeezing her eyes shut. He held her on his lap with one arm around her, to prevent her movements, the other free to cure her.

The pain when his fingers invaded the wound was burning, searing; she bite her lip, trying to contain a scream, while her feet thrashed in agony. Her upper body wasn't moving, though, for his grip was adamant. But she couldn't contain it for long and she let out a cry, just when he removed at last the bullet. She was left trembling, teary and exhausted in his arms and only when she heard him whisper a curative spell did she open her eyes.

"It's over," he told her.

She smiled at him weakly and, to his surprise, she sneaked her arms around his neck, embracing him.

"Thank you," she said. "Thank you so much for saving me, and for not killing Tseng."

He said nothing. He had really wanted, not only to kill him, but to torture him beyond endurance. Sephiroth hugged her back, trying not to think about how much Tseng's words had settled on him.

_W__ho would believe a monster could have such soft feelings towards a woman?_

"Sephiroth?"

Aerith had broken apart from him a little and now she was gazing at him. There was worry in her green eyes.

"What happened?"

He shook his head.

"Nothing."

He helped her to stand up. She hadn't lost much blood from the wound, despite the delicate spot.

"I think you should wear the pendant," she said all of a sudden.

He tried to protest, but she took it off before he could say a thing and offered it to him.

"You said it might be true, right?" she beamed.

Sephiroth looked at the small sphere. The first time it touched his skin it left him dazed and having those strange visions, which had stopped on their way to the Temple, as abruptly as they had come.

Deciding there was nothing to lose, he reached for it and took it from her outstretched hands. Nothing happened so far, so he gathered more resolution and put it around his neck. Still, nothing happened; it didn't shine or react in any way this time upon touching his bare chest.

Aerith sighed and closed her eyes, disappointed. Sephiroth also felt the same way, though his face didn't betray any emotion.

"I don't understand," she said, looking at the pendant in bewilderment.

He snorted softly, smiling with resignation. He was not the one, obviously. He couldn't be, anyway; he was just a synthetic being, created in a laboratory and destined for a life of servitude.

"Maybe she's just being lazy," she mused, pouting as she was thinking aloud.

"Lazy?"

"Remember that this is a soul, she can feel and she knows where she is and who's wearing the stone. But I don't understand why she's doing nothing right now."

Aerith was going to say anything more, but Sephiroth grabbed her by her shoulders and forced her behind him as he unsheathed Masamune; moments after that she heard a rustle of vegetation and voices coming towards them and one of them made her shiver in recognition. She peered around Sephiroth's waist just in time to see the mass of foliage trembling and being broken apart, as several people stomped their way into the clearing.

"Cloud!" she called with joy, though Sephiroth forced her again behind him.

"Aerith!" the blond man answered, sword ready. All his companions, whose majority Aerith didn't know, readied their weapons. "Let her go," Cloud growled.

Sephiroth was silent for long moments, only pointing at them with his sword. The entire group was holding their breath, expecting him to attack any time.

To their surprise, he only chuckled.

Without looking, he grabbed Aerith's arm and pushed her towards them. Tifa retrieved the girl and shielded her with her body.

"Take her," said Sephiroth in a mocking tone. "I won't need her anymore."

Aerith couldn't believe what she heard. She stood behind Tifa, staring at him in utter disbelief, not wanting to pay credit to what she was witnessing.

"What about the Black Materia?" asked Cloud.

"That's none of your concern," replied the silver haired man.

"Give it back!" yelled Barret.

"Don't push your luck," Sephiroth hissed menacingly, though his face calmed quickly. "I have no time to play around with fops like you," he continued, sheathing his sword. "There are more important matters that require my attention."

And, turning around, he disappeared through the foliage.

When he was gone, the entire group let out a sigh of relief.

Aerith only noticed that she was surrounded by people when Tifa hugged her tightly.

"We are so glad you're ok!" she exclaimed.

They broke apart. Tifa was clearly happy and relieved, as was Cloud next to her.

"I'm sorry it took us so long to find you," he said, and then he grew serious. "We heard a scream, are you all right?"

Aerith nodded and smiled.

"Yeah, he was curing me."

"What did ya say?" asked Barret. "I thought he was gonna kill ya!"

"No, he wasn't, he saved me from Tseng. Twice," and she pointed to the bullet hole in her clothes.

"As much as I find these reencounters quite heart-warming, I think we should go back to the plane to talk."

The one who talked so wisely was Nanaki and, since all of them were rather annoyed either by mosquitoes, or the humidity, or the heat, or some combination of them, they followed his counsel. Aerith was politely introduced to the new members as they walked. She greeted them and then she fell silent, not willing to share the others' lively chat.

The girl couldn't forget the almost imperceptible flicker of sadness in his green catlike eyes before he disappeared in the jungle, or how the blue pendant started to twinkle back to life at last when he was leaving.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**


	29. 29 Of Past and Present Times

**Disclaimer:** Again, I don't own any character of Final Fantasy, any of them, much to my dismay (I wish I could own pre-psycho Sephiroth all to me, but it cannot be).

This fanfict has been inspired by the song of Yann Tiersen, "Comptine d'un Autre Étè".

Many thanks to everyone for their encouragement, corrections and ideas.

Special thanks to NoBuddy, who was so nice and awesome that she amended some poor excuse of a poem I did and transformed it into a lovable ancient song.

Enjoy!

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

**CHAPTER ****29.**

_**The Girl Who Fell From The Sky. (Joe Hisaishi)**_

XXXXXX-X-XXXXXX

"I'm sorry, but I can't believe it."

Cloud's reaction was to be expected. He thought that the real assassin was Sephiroth. A possession was a difficult thing to prove.

"I'm telling the truth," said Aerith.

"No one is saying that you're lying," Tifa told her, "but, what if he was the one who lied to you?"

"For the last time," the other girl sighed, "Sephiroth has a lot of Jenova cells inside him. That was the way she used to infect people when she arrived here."

They were flying now towards Cosmo Canyon. Nanaki had suggested stopping there to get some more information about the Black Materia. He said that his grandfather was a scholar of the Planet's science and that he could aid them. Plus, he wanted to return to his homeland, form where he had been captured years before by the Turks.

Aerith had spent the rest of the day trying to convince her friends and her new companions that Sephiroth had changed, but they seemed adamant about their opinion, at least the ones that could voice it, for Yuffie was reclined in her seat, tying to control her sickness, and Cid was too busy piloting to pay attention to anything more. Caith Sith, on his part, had disconnected himself to save energy and sat unmoving at the back of the plane.

"All right!" she almost yelled in frustration. "How can you explain this thing?" she pointed to her blood stained bolero.

"But that was Tseng," said Tifa.

"That's what I've been trying to say," Aerith continued. "Sephiroth wanted to kill Tseng for that, but I begged him not to, and he listened to me. Then Reno, Rude and other woman showed up and Reno told me that it was all Hojo's fault, that he had been doing things to Tseng and those things changed him for the worst."

"And what has it to do with Sephiroth in the first place?" said Cloud.

"Sephiroth spent a lot of time with Hojo in the laboratories," Aerith replied. "Don't you see? Hojo could have also messed him up!"

There was a silence, on which only the Tiny Bronco's engines hummed. No one made eye contact with her this time. Aerith sighed and sat back, already tired and defeated.

"I believe you," said a deep voice. It was Vincent.

"How can ya say that, man?" yelled Barret.

"I know Hojo," Vincent answered back calmly. "He has always been fascinated with human experiments. It wouldn't surprise me at all if what she's telling us were the truth."

"Yeah," said Cloud. "Except that it's way too convenient. And what about the Black Materia?"

"He didn't take it! He was too busy trying to heal me. And, what about the pendant?" Aerith continued, not willing to lose the argument. "He was the rightful owner!"

"It doesn't make him a saint, you know!"

"No one is a saint, in the first place," the girl replied. "And that Ania recognized him makes him human, not the monster you think he is."

Cloud held her gaze. Aerith knew he was restraining himself because she was a girl, and that always got on her nerves.

"Excuse me, Aerith," Nanaki interrupted, breaking the almost tangible tension. "I saw Sephrioth wearing a blue stone around his neck, is that the one you are talking about?"

"It is. Do you know them?"

"There are stories in my land about such artifacts, but you should ask the elders of the village about that."

The girl nodded with a slight smile and returned her gaze to the window and Nanaki returned to his silent dozing, glad that he had put an end to a futile discussion. No one uttered a word until the end of the trip.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

They arrived at last in Cosmo Canyon. Landing in the rocky desert wasn't a problem for Cid, though he had to spend a good time afterwards just to clean the motors.

The village itself sat on top of a cliff, to where one had to access through a narrow staircase. Nanaki could not contain his joy upon returning to his homeland and ran ahead of the rest, displaying an unusual behavior, quite far from the calm and collected appearance he always had.

They were introduced to the head of the village and Nanaki's grandfather. His name was Bugenhagen and he wasn't at all like they had imagined: he was a human being.

What they saw was an old, balding man, with his remaining hair gathered in a bun, a long white beard, clad in a blue tunic, with sunglasses and riding a floating ball, like old wise men from ancient tales. And he was a rather cheerful man, always laughing with a deep, joyful laugh, which sounded like: "Ho ho hooo!".

"I heard you looked after Nanaki a bit," he said to them. "Nanaki is still a child, you see."

"Please stop, grandfather," said the red beast. "I'm forty eight."

If he had been a human being he couldn't have been redder than his actual fur.

"Ho ho hooo," laughed Bugenhagen. "Nanaki's tribe has incredible longevity. His forty eight years would be equivalent to fifteen or sixteen human years."

"What?" Cloud exclaimed.

"He's quiet and very deep," said Bugenhagen merrily. "Did you think he was an adult?"

"Grandfather," interrupted Nanaki, whose head was bowed. "I want to be an adult. I want to grow up to protect you and the village."

"No Nanaki," said the old man, shaking his head. "Doing that would destroy you in the long run. Looking up too much makes you lose perspective."

He floated to the window and gazed outside. For a moment his cheerful demeanor changed abruptly to a deep and thoughtful one.

"When it's time for this planet to die, you'll understand that you know absolutely nothing," he said.

"To die?" asked Nanaki.

"Yes. It may be tomorrow, or 100 years from now... But it's not long off," he turned to Aerith. "You feel it, don't you?"

The girl paled.

"I…" she tried to say.

"Ho ho hooo! Don't worry, dear," he chuckled merrily. "Nanaki has told me already that you are a Cetra while you were still climbing up here. But tell me, you heard the cries of the Planet, didn't you?"

"I've been living in Midgar ever since I remember. I couldn't hear it well there. It was too much noise. But recently I… went out. I can't say I heard it, but my dreams have been restless since then."

"Hum, I see," said the old man adjusting his sunglasses. "Are you familiar with the Planet's Cycle of Life?"

"Yes" she said, a bit nervous that someone asked her about such matters. "My mother taught me when I was a child."

"Ho ho hooo! That's good then. Since you already know what I'm going to explain, you may go out if you want. I think you'd like to visit Elder Hargo, he has a lot of things to teach about the Cetra and maybe you'll find it useful."

So Bugenhagen gave her the directions to see Elder Hargo. Aerith nodded, as she felt her heart already fluttering. She always thought that she was the only one who still knew something about the Planet's lore. Knowing that there were people who taught it filled her with relief, after knowing how very little the inhabitants of Midgar cared for such things.

She knocked at the door that Bugenhagen told her to and an energetic voice came from behind it, muffled.

"Come in! Come in!" the voice urged her.

She opened the door and stopped right at the entrance, wide eyed.

Since homes seemed to be excavated in the rock (with the exception of Bugenhagen's home), she had expected a tiny and cramped place, with no windows and lit only with torches.

The room in question wasn't enormous, but it had space for many shelves crowded with books and several tables and chairs along the place, and there were windows, though the place was lit by electric lamps. Going to and fro with papers and books was a middle-aged man, short and waist-broad, with black receding hair and dressed in a green tunic.

"Oh, hello!" he saluted as he put his burden on top of the nearest table.

"Uh, hi… I was searching for Elder Hargo," said Aerith.

"It is me! What can I do for you?"

"Mister Bugenhagen sent me here. He said you could teach me things about the Cetra."

Hargo's eyes lit up as he smiled broadly.

"Oh, I see. There aren't many people these days interested in this kind of things. They say: 'What's the point in learning about a race that disappeared so long ago?'."

"Actually… I happen to be a Cetra."

Those words seemed to work wonders on the man. If he had been eager to teach her before, now he was beyond enthusiastic because now he knew that the Cetran race wasn't extinct. However, he excused himself for not being able to explain things to her personally, since he was overwhelmed with work. He let her access to the many books in the room, which wasn't a library, in fact, but an archive, and one could only read those books with a special permission. Since she was at a loss about where to begin, Hargo handed her a book named _"History of the Cetra, by Prof. Gast Faremis"_. It appeared to be recently bound and Hargo explained to her that it was a compilation of all the findings about the Cetra along the years and that maybe there she would be able to find many useful things.

Telling her that she should ask him any question she had, he returned to his duties, going again to and fro carrying books and papers.

The girl spent the rest of the afternoon just reading. She completely lost track of time as she literally drank out all the information she could. Never before had she read so much in so little time. But never before had she found out such interesting themes. Of course she couldn't finish all the copies, but at least she learnt much more than she expected.

The books described how the Cetran civilization was structured in guilds, instead of castes, so one was a member of a certain guild depending on his or her abilities. Four were the most important: the Healers who were the only ones capable of the Planet Channeling; the Warriors who, with only their singing voices, could inspire fear in the heart of the enemy, or raise the courage of their comrades; the Black Mages and the Job-Traders, who could mimic many abilities from the other guilds and were used as spies.

Aerith received an unpleasant surprise when she read that there had been a great war among the Cetra, and it was because of the Humans: Many Cetra thought that Humans were inferior and wanted to use them as slaves. That angered the other Cetra, who exiled them. And then a war followed.

And again she felt astonished when she learnt that Jenova had arrived because of that War: the dissidents used the Black Materia to crush their cousins, but they missed their target. They lost the war, but the damage was done. After that, many Cetra disappeared, and the Planet alerted the remaining that they had to leave the North. The Cetra refused, because they wanted to save their land, and they marched to war again.

Jenova wanted to awaken Omega, an ancient being whose mission was to gather all life from the dying Planet and return to the Cosmos, just like when someone dies and returns to the Lifestream. Jenova wanted to infect Omega to travel to another Planet so she could the process. An illustration showed Omega as a giant four winged beast, like the one she saw in her dreams and on the walls of the Temple. And Chaos was there too. So she was dreaming about the past. Or was it a premonition?

Also, she learnt that the white lady from the murals was in fact the last Cetran Queen. Her name was Mihn-Ur, and she had been the one who sealed Jenova, sacrificing her life in the process. In one of the books it was stated that the famous play Loveless was in fact an ancient poem which told the last days of said queen, but it had been modified, so the Queen was turned into a Goddess named Minerva. But nothing was said about her blue stone.

Aerith was convinced that there had to be something concerning that stone. It couldn't be a mere pendant. No one painted a historic mural just to show off the Queen's jewels. It had to be an important artifact, and she wanted to find out what it was.

So withdrawn she was with her task that she didn't notice that someone called for her until a hand rested on her shoulder, making her jump in surprise. It was Elder Hargo.

"Sorry to interrupt you, dear," he said apologetically, "but Bugenhagen wishes to speak with you. He says it's very urgent."

The girl went to Bugen's house after thanking Hargo for his kindness. As she got up she noticed dusk was near. She had spent the whole afternoon just reading those books, but it was worth the time. Only the blue stone of the Queen remained as a mystery to her. Maybe Bugenhagen knew anything about it.

She knocked at the door before entering. The place looked empty. Maybe her friends were downstairs, visiting the village.

"Mister Bugenhagen?" she called.

"Ho ho hooo, there you are!" exclaimed the old man as he floated down the stairs to greet her. "Sorry for making you wait, please come with me."

She followed him upstairs, where a little bedroom was arranged and, beyond a metal door, there was another room full of strange instruments and its ceiling was high and curved, and painted with many white dots, resembling stars.

"I have been explaining to your friends the peril we are into," said the old man as soon as they entered. "You know what am I talking about, don't you?"

"Yes," she nodded. "Shinra is leeching the Lifestream and that can kill our Planet."

"Hum, yes, that's a way to summarize it," Bugenhagen admitted, adjusting his glasses. "But there's something even more dangerous. The Black Materia has been stolen, from what your friends have told me, and by Sephiroth, no less."

"That's not true," Aerith almost exclaimed. "I saw it, it was inside the Temple when we went out and Sephiroth was with me all the time."

"So that leaves us with a nice puzzle," he mused. "Anyway, you already know what that implies, don't you?"

"The Black Materia… was used to summon Meteor. But who would want to do it?"

"Jenova, of course! Ho ho hoo, but don't worry," he said seeing her frightened stare, "because maybe we already have its counterpart!"

Aerith gazed at him without understanding.

"Your Materia might be its counterpart," he explained, pointing at her hair.

"My…?" she stammered as she removed the sphere from her braid and held it in her hands.

"Cloud has told me that your Materia does nothing. It can't cast any spell, yet Nanaki sensed a great power within it. That would probe that you are a direct descendant from the tribe of the Healers. They were the guardians of the Materias, both Black and White. The Black Materia was sealed away after the Great War, and the White one was inherited from father to son, during these two thousand years."

"My mother told me that it was special, but she never mentioned what I had to do with it."

"Then I'll explain it to you," he said merrily as he floated towards a computer.

Aerith went to his side and looked at the screen. A map of the North Continent appeared; a red dot pointed the location of a village to the Western part named Icicle Inn, and a green dot flashed in the East part, in the middle of a forest.

"The green dot signals the Forgotten Capital," said Bugenhagen, "the capital of the late Cetra civilization. There it was where the White Materia was guarded and where the Healers prayed for Holy. Since the Black Materia has been stolen, it's only a matter of time until Meteor is summoned again."

"But I don't know how to summon Holy!" she said, beginning to panic.

"That's why I'm only asking you if you want to go. I don't know what perils await inside those ruins and even summoning Holy may prove very dangerous. But only you can do it."

Aerith sighed, looking at the screen. It didn't seem difficult to reach the city in the forest.

"How can I reach the Forgotten Capital?"

"Are you sure you want to do it?" asked Bugenhagen quite seriously.

Aerith nodded, though her stomach churned. It must have been too obvious, because the old man's gesture softened then.

"Ho ho hoo! You don't have to decide it right now. I'm not even sure if we have the real White Materia in our hands. Besides, you have spent quite a lot of time learning and doing chores around the Planet. Take your time and talk with your friends about it. I'm sure they will be eager to help you if you accept this mission."

She let go a breath she didn't know she was holding until that moment.

"Chores?"

"Your friends told me about the pendant you were supposed to deliver, once its rightful owner was found."

The girl blushed. She had given it to Sephiroth just before they were separated. It pained her to think about him.

"I'm very sorry for all this," Bugenhagen said then, and Aerith saw for the first time how old he really was. "I wish I could do it myself, but I'm no Cetra, no matter how much I study the Science of the Planet. Seems like it is a matter of genes, rather than mere knowledge," he added with a hint of a smile through his snowy beard.

"Mister Bugenhagen, you know a lot of things about the Planet and my people, right?" Aerith asked.

"Ho ho hooo!" he laughed, regaining his cheerful demeanor. "A lot of things might not be enough to really understand the Planet, but I can teach a thing or two."

"You see, I wish to know about a blue stone that the Cetra Queen wore in the Great War."

"Oh, that!" he said, floating towards a shelf. "That's not in the library, by the way. That's an ancient tale."

"I want to know it," she begged.

"All right, but don't be surprised if you find some likeness to something," he added with a mischievous smile. Then he cleared his throat and began the tale.

"Legend says that Queen Mihn-Ur had a lover, a warrior of great strength and courage called Ruilen, but he was infected by the Calamity and, like all those who suffered from the same disease, he was doomed to madness and, ultimately, to turn into a monster. But before this could happen, Ruilen begged the Queen to kill him before it was too late. The Queen had no other choice, and she killed her lover."

"That's horrible," Aerith whispered.

"Yes, cruel and awful," said Bugenhagen. "But, like in all ancient tales, the heroes had to suffer in order to fulfill their destiny. After Mihn-Ur killed Ruilen, his spirit materialized into a blue sphere that she wore around her neck until she died. Such pendant casted a powerful protection spell, and that's how she could stand against the Calamity. But the power of the invader was too great, and she had to sacrifice her life to seal the enemy."

"The spirit…?" she began, but could not keep on talking.

"Ho ho hoo! But this is better! Only a Cetra can materialize his or her own spirit into one of those blue stone, and such process only works if the receiver is also a Cetra, so that person could receive it without the spell breaking."

Aerith gaped at him. So Ania was a Cetra, after all! And, if Sephiroth was the receiver…

She covered her mouth as the pieces fit into place. Bugenhagen seemed to follow her train of thought, because he smiled mischievously.

"Seems like nothing happens by chance," he commented, eyeing her reaction.

Aerith wanted to cry and laugh at the same time. Sephiroth wasn't a monster; he was like her, after all. Another Cetra.

"Then I should be happy," she said, smiling sadly.

"Ho ho hoo! Don't be sad, dear. That you found him wasn't a random thing, and maybe you're destined to see him once more."

She nodded.

"Thank you," she said. "I needed to believe that it could be true."

"It is. Now I'll distract you no more, I'm sure you want to see your friends and maybe change those blood-soaked clothes, am I wrong?"

She nodded again, maybe too baffled still to say too much.

Bugenhagen told her to go to a clothes shop below his level. There they would take care of her clothes and lend her new ones. She did so, finding that the woman at said shop was very nice with her (apparently the word that she was a true Cetra had been spreading since their arrival), and she lent Aerith another dress while her old one was washed and mended. Then she headed for the ground level, where a great fire was constantly lit, and many people were gathered around it.

Her friends were together on one side and, when they saw her coming, Cloud was the first to get up and walk towards her. He was as serious as that morning, but something in the way he looked at her had changed.

"I'm sorry about what happened," he said in his so-direct style. "I didn't mean to…"

"It's all right, Cloud," Aerith interrupted him. "If someone told me that Hojo had been controlled when he killed my mother I couldn't believe it either."

Cloud smiled half embarrassed, and that made her shiver. Sometimes he was a cocky ex-SOLDIER like Zack had been, to change unexpectedly and just for brief seconds to a timid and childlike boy. Those changes were so subtle that she doubted that anyone had even noticed them. But she had known Zack, and Cloud acted and talked just like him most of the time, then a brief glimpse and then again behaving like Zack. She didn't know why, but each time it happened she had the image of a figure trying desperately to tear a curtain blocking his path.

That feeling passed quickly, though, and Cloud was again the cocky mercenary. He led her to the rest of the group, where she was offered something to dine.

It was a nice evening, surrounded by all her friends, the new and the old ones. She noticed, though, that Vincent was not there. Tifa told her that he preferred to be left alone from time to time.

Aerith was soon told about everything that had happened during their search for her. She felt a little guilty because of the many troubles she had caused, but they didn't seem too concerned about it. Even they talked about each one's back story. Aside from Cloud and Tifa's, she knew almost nothing of the rest.

The last one was Vincent's story, because he was not present to tell it.

"Vincent told us very little about him," Cloud lied. "He remains a mystery to all of us."

The chat went on and on, talking of different things aside from their adventures. Aerith remained in silence, just staring at the fire. She had received so maybe too much information and she was chocking on it.

Aerith looked at the other groups. There were lonesome travelers and families. She looked longingly at the last. She missed her mother, Elmyra. The girl wondered how her life might have been if her first mother hadn't been killed, and what would have happened if she had known her father.

Many times it nagged at her that her mother never talked about her father. Not that she knew anything about what a family was when she was at the labs. There, her only world consisted on her mom and the scientists. Her mother was good, the scientist were bad. It was as a simple as that. It was later in the Slums when she learnt that everyone had a father and a mother, though many times one of them (or both) were unknown.

There were a lot of stories about men who dumped their pregnant girlfriends, or abandoned their wives and children, and she wondered if her father had been one of those men.

Soon she felt tired of the noise and the bright fire and excused herself. Though she enjoyed her friend's company, she needed to breathe fresh air and be alone.

As she got up to Bugenhagen's terrace, she reflected on what she had learnt and what she felt.

What had really happened? Sephiroth never knew his real mother, and the only person by his side when he was a little child was Hojo. His encounter with Ania had been an accident, and thanks to that he could know the warmth of a family.

Bugenhagen's home seemed empty. Maybe he was down in the library or maybe sleeping, since it was late.

She went to the wooden railing and gazed upon the landscape. During the day it showed a reddish palette, but at night the colors changed from red to blue. That night it was especially clear, and a crescent Moon dominated the starry sky. The girl took a deep breath, it smelled faintly like burnt wood, so unlike magical fire, which doesn't need to be fueled.

Sighing, she leaned on the wooden rail. She needed to find Sephiroth, she had to tell him what she had discovered, that he wasn't a monster and that he carried Cetran blood in his veins, and that he was born from a human mother, not "produced" in a lab.

Aerith smiled slightly. It pained her to even think about Sephiroth.

She missed him.

It was ludicrous, but she did. It had gotten worse since she had read those things about her race.

_I wanted to save you because we are the same thing._

Though he only spoke metaphorically, he was right without being aware of it. He had meant that they were strange beings apart from Humans. Now she understood what he said. No matter how good her friends were with her, she felt misplaced among them. She had noticed how Cloud and Tifa changed since she knew them. They spoke little between them, but they said everything with their eyes, though they seemed not to notice. She sighed at the thought, feeling a little jealous; it wasn't something she liked but she couldn't help the way her heart acted.

"It's dangerous for a girl to wander alone at night," said a deep voice behind her.

She turned around, her heart racing. A tall, long-haired figure stood by Bugenhagen's home, half hidden in its shadow. The man stepped forward out of the shade and she let out a deep sigh.

"I'm sorry if I startled you," said Vincent, his golden claw gleaming in the moonlight.

"Don't worry," she giggled to hide her embarrassment. "I tend to frighten very often over nothing."

"Have the others sent you to fetch me, or it is solitude what you are seeking?"

"I came here because I wanted some silence," she admitted timidly. This man didn't seem threatening. Cloud relied on him, after all. But his mere presence was imposing.

"I see," he said, turning to leave.

"Please, don't go," she said. "I wanted to ask you something."

Vincent stopped for a moment, and then strode to the rail, apparently looking at the landscape with his arms crossed. Aerith took that as a sign that he was willing.

"Cloud told me that they found you in Nibelheim," she began tentatively.

"True."

"Is… Is Nibelheim still standing?"

Vincent fixed his crimson gaze on her, making the girl to fidget nervously.

"Cloud told me that Sephiroth razed the village," said the man. "I do not know anything about it, for I was sleeping down in the basement of the Manor."

"Sleeping?"

"My story is long and painful," he admitted. "Suffice to say that I have been locked up for thirty years. Hojo of Shinra tortured me with endless experiments and then he buried me alive inside a stone coffin, tied and gagged, thirty years ago."

"That's horrible," she whispered. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked."

"You don't have to apologize," said Vincent. "He tricked me, and I was too stupid to realize until it was too late."

The girl nodded, but her brain was already racing, for that man had said something that reminded her…

_Nibelheim._

_Experiments._

_Buried alive._

"Vincent," she said all of a sudden. "About what you said earlier, I…"

But she stopped, because she already felt like she was making a fool of herself by asking that thing. But, what could he possibly do? Laugh at her? Several people had mocked her many times along her life. Somehow, the fact that he was stranger than herself made Aerith build more courage to speak.

He was staring at her again in that unnerving way and she realized that she had zoned out. Blushing, she finally voiced her question.

"C-Could it be that someone dreamed about what you lived through?"

"I don't understand," he said.

"I know it sounds silly, but Sephiroth told me the same thing."

"Sephiroth?"

There was a faint reaction in his expression. It became anxious for a moment, but soon he returned to his blank appearance.

"It's a long story, but the important thing right now is that Sephiroth had visions of the same things. He even saw the burying thing."

"I'm sorry," said Vincent, looking again at the scenery. "But I don't know why that would have happened."

"You don't believe me, don't you?" she replied, sighing in disappointment.

"I do," he said, turning to her. "But there are things in this world that not many of us can explain. I can understand that, somehow, you have become attached to Sephiroth, if it's true that he was planning to save you from Jenova; therefore you believe in his word and in his good will."

"It's not a matter of good will. He's not what they think he is," Aerith protested, pointing towards the place where the Sacred Fire burnt. "It's not that I don't care for what happened in Nibelheim, but it wasn't his fault, and I don't care if no one believes me, because I know he's in danger and I want to help him!"

She didn't notice the tears rolling down her cheeks until she finished talking. She turned around to wipe her face, embarrassed. Her nerves were betraying her lately, for she hardly lost control so easily, but too many things were happening, and too quickly for her to assimilate.

"What kind of danger are we talking about?" asked Vincent with his husky voice.

"Jenova told him to bring me to her, but he didn't want to," she said in a trembling voice. "One night she attacked him. I don't know what she did to him, but he was suffering a lot, and I don't know what will happen when he returns to her without me."

There was a moment of silence, and she turned to him. He was apparently unmoved, still looking at the canyon below.

"I'm not asking you to feel pity for him," she said more compliant this time. "But I'm in a mess right now, because Mister Bugenhagen told me about the Black Materia and what I have to do, but I don't know where to begin with. I want to find Sephiroth, but I have to save the Planet too."

Aerith stopped, breathing hard as if she had been running for a long time. It was no use. This guy seemed unaffected by everything she said.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, bowing her head. "I don't even know why you are with us. I must be boring you with my problems."

"Not at all," said Vincent, surprising her. He was now facing her as he spoke. "Your heart is torn in two, that I understand. I cannot give you counsel in such matters, for I chose to bury my feelings long ago. But I can tell you this: It would be better going first to the Forgotten Capital, rather than pursuing someone whom you don't know how to track down."

A sigh escaped her lips.

"I suppose you are right," she conceded.

"Many times duty and emotions are enemies," Vincent said.

"So that's why you are good with your duty, right?" was her reply.

"Maybe."

"Tell me, what did you do?"

The gunman looked at her questioningly.

"Hojo," Aerith clarified. "Why did Hojo catch you?"

"Because I was young and stupid," he answered plainly.

That wasn't what Aerith expected to hear, and she was going to ask more when she was interrupted.

A sound reached her ears. They were singing around the fire, but it didn't sound like anything she had heard before. She tilted her head towards the humming song, but she couldn't distinguish it because it was too far away. When she turned to Vincent to ask him, she saw him gazing towards the fire with a dreamy expression.

"It's the Song of the Ancients," he commented.

"It's the first time I hear it. But I can't hear it well," she admitted a bit ashamed.

"I can translate it for you," Vincent offered.

"Why do I have the impression that everybody knows more of my people than myself?"

"Maybe because I'm quite old," he joked, and then he began to recite the poem:

_She came while we were still asleep._

_The first shadow of evil._

_The first glance down the deep._

_With silver hair and poisoned breath,_

_She held in hand the sword of death._

_She called herself The Icy Queen,_

_All that she touched laid in ruin._

_Her wings of shadow then she spread._

_She took the faces of the dead._

_Her Gift was venom for the soul,_

_Deceiving us, consuming all,_

_Memories twisted by the mare –_

_A Hell's harbinger of despair._

_So many sacrifices made_

_To seal her deep into the shade._

_So it has been foretold back then_

_That one day she will rise again;_

_Her shadow spread over the field_

_On cowered souls already kneeled._

_But then the sword will carve and bite_

_The wielding hand – in flesh to write;_

_The shield will split and fall apart._

_The armor soon will fail to thwart._

_The weak will become strong again._

_Broken and tore will be the chain._

_Oceans of tears will be forgotten._

_All sins and wrongs will be forgiven._

_We'll rise the final stand to see_

_That day the soul purified will be._

_The wings of light again will spread._

_The sword of life carried upheld,_

_The shield of hope stays undispelled._

_The wisdom's armor so will shine –_

_Oblation to life's lasting shrine._

_But till the time is ready, then_

_Beware the Goddess, o my children!_

_For her Gift's venom to the soul_

_Corrupting memories of all._

_The Hell's harbinger of despair –_

_The Queen, the demonness, the mare._

He was silent then for a time before speaking again.

"This is an ancient prophecy from the Cetra," he said. "They could only seal the Calamity, so they knew that she would return someday."

Sudenly she remembered what Bugenhagen had told her about her materia and her heart sunk.

"She's here now," Aerith murmured.

"You can count with me to accompany you to the Forgotten Capital."

She thanked him. It felt nice to have people around her to count on. Maybe the next day she would speak with the others about it, but for now she would let them rest. They earned it after all the trouble she had given them. After thanking Vincent, Aerith went to the Inn, where they had rented rooms for that night. The gunman excused himself, saying that he didn't need to sleep, and remained at the top of the cliff.

Earlier that afternoon, when they had gotten out of Bugen's home, they held a little council. Cloud's decision of not telling Aerith about Sephiroth's past had seemed a ludicrous thing to do, but everyone agreed to that.

"_I don't like the way she's defending him,"_ Cloud had said. _"She will try to speak with him, and that's too dangerous. I don't want to see more slaughter. I had enough of that back at home."_

"_Cloud,"_ Vincent told him._ "You are not alone like five years ago. Plus, the girl might be telling us the truth. Maybe Sephiroth has changed."_

"_No way. Vincent, I know he's the son of the woman you loved, but he has done too many things. People can't change like that."_

Vincent had said nothing then, but he regretted not having told Aerith everything when they had been alone.

"_Everything and more,"_ he thought.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

**End of Chapter 29**

**

* * *

xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

**Bonus chapter!**

If it had been published into a book format, this could be an appendix. In this chapter 29 I referred to many history books written by Professor Gast Faremis, but I didn't include a whole extract because I didn't want to ruin the pace of the story. Remember that this is not entirely canon, just a little of what I think it happened and a little of what I made up to make it fit with my own plotline and my own theories.

So let's go with the class of Cetran History!

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

**Appendix: History of the Cetra.**

**(Extract from "Cetran History", by Prof. Gast Faremis)**

**Tribes of the Cetran Race:**

The Cetra, or Ancients, dwelled in the North Continent long before human civilizations could be created. Their technology, though very primitive in the eyes of the modern investigator, was very advanced for their time, displaying great lore in the fields of architecture, magic and weaponry. Even if they never discovered gunpowder, they could forge metal and had a wide range of weapons, from longbows to axes, not forgetting the ever present swords in their many forms and lengths.

For the Tribes, it is more correct to refer to them as Guilds, for the term "tribe" implies a geographical division, which wasn't the case. Unlike one could think at a first glance, the Cetra did not live apart one from the other. There are even records of marriages among members of the different Guilds. The sons of those marriages would inherit the abilities of the parents in some grade or another, the membership of said guilds being something hereditary and dependable on the grade in which said abilities were passed down from one generation to the next.

We can only speculate about the real number of those Guilds, since the records and evidences are few and scattered around the Planet, and they only refer to great events. Few of them have survived the onslaught of time. Their names have been translated to our language, for the originals would sound too alien to our modern ears.

The _Healers _could cure both the physical body and the soul, knowing almost no limitations for their healing powers. They were the ones devoted to the Planet Channeling, that is, to speak with the Planet or, more correctly, to the souls within the Lifestream, since they were the most attuned to the Planet. As a result, they were also known for their powerful summoning magic, since all summoned creatures have their origin in the very essence of the Planet.

The _Warriors_ were the military force. They displayed great fighting skills, along with average black magic. A more accurate name for this tribe would be Warrior-Bards, because of their innate ability to intone a song either to raise the spirit of their comrades or to inspire fear among their opponents. Also, it was said that they possessed a strong mental bond only shared between those related directly by blood ties. This ability was a primal form of telepathy and it is yet to be established whether they did actually communicate using this method, or it was just a mean to reinforce the father-child bond, the sharing of the same dream when sleeping being very often among parents and siblings when they were physically far away one from the other.

The _Black Mages_. They had no outstanding physical abilities, being compensated by a destructive magic power which had no rival; their aid was most valuable for a good attack strategy, as well as a good defense. Apparently they didn't need to use Materia to cast the spells, as modern magic users, but their ability was something innate, only requiring study to control their inner power, not to acquire it.

The _Job-Traders_ were the rarest of their kin, for they were capable of mimicking all the abilities of the other tribes, though with certain limitations; for example, they could cast the White Magic of the Healers, but couldn't be able to carry on the Planet Channeling, or they could fight like the best of Warriors, but couldn't share the mental bond with that tribe. They were used as spies and informers most of the time.

Another Group should be introduced, although they weren't considered true Cetra by their own kin. That group was a conglomerate of many members of the main civilization, and they were the ones who sought to enslave their fellow humans, since they were weaker and their number were fewer.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

**Of the Great War and the Calamity of the Skies:**

As it was said in the First Chapter, there was a serious split among the Cetran society, having as a pivotal point the incipient race of humans.

Those who left their country were considered traitors by their own kind. Such punishment was based upon the belief that the Cetra were guardians of the Planet, not rulers, and that enslaving another living being, despite the race, was considered a major affront towards the Planet itself.

The new Group established not far from their cousins. Ironically their main settlement was where now the city of Midgar sits. That may have been not only because they didn't want to be far from their original climate, but also because they wanted to have an observation point over their rivals and former compatriots.

As it was said above, the Dissidents founded their own empire, having their main workforce composed of human slaves. This offended the Cetra so much that a war erupted several decades after the scission, and lasted over a century.

This war, called the _Great War_ in the records, ended abruptly when the Dissidents came to posses the Black Materia. This materia casts the ultimate black magic spell: _Meteor_. It summons a vagrant asteroid from the depths of outer space to collide with the Planet. Their plan, obviously, was to crush the original Cetra and all their land, with no regards towards the potential damage that this could cause to the Planet itself. It was a desperate movement, for the Cetra had the war almost won, despite the Dissidents having assassinated the King by means of treason within the very Royal Court.

Whether if the original plan was thwarted at the last moment or the spell was too powerful to control is yet to determine. Meteor was summoned and it crashed upon the surface of our world, but not in the original point; and within Meteor came something worse, which would be named the _Calamity From the Skies_.

After the crashing of Meteor, the Great War ended with the defeat of the Dissidents, but the winners had no time to rejoice: They had to heal the large wound inflicted upon the Planet, today known as the Northern Crater. And there is where strange events began to happen.

Both in carvings and in ancient documents it is shown that those who travelled to the Northern Crater disappeared without a trace. After that, images of the dead ones began to appear to the living (only the Cetra were affected by such phenomenon), luring them into the same place and with the same results. Through the Channeling, the Planet urged the Cetra to abandon the North Continent at once, for they were in a danger greater than they had ever known. The Cetra refused to leave, so great was their love for their homeland and for the Planet, and chose to battle the Calamity from the Skies.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

**Omega and Chaos:**

_Omega_ and _Chaos_ are the most primal forms of life, being linked to the very existence of the Planet, like summoned creatures but, unlike summoned creatures, Omega and Chaos cannot be called forth by any caster, their power being too vast to control. They are dormant within the Planet, waiting for the right time to arise and return to the Cosmos.

Like all living beings, the Planet also has its own cycle of life and death. When the end of the world is imminent, all the spiritual energy, sentient and not, is gathered in one living form: Omega, which will leave the Planet and return to the Cosmos. For its part, Chaos' mission is to ensure that every living being returns to the Lifestream when the end comes, thus being also named "The Harvester of Souls".

Though these are believed nowadays to be only mythical creatures, they made their appearance in the war against the Calamity, and took a major role in it, as explained in the next chapters.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

**Nature of the Calamity****:**

The nature of the Calamity can only be comprehended if one compares it to viruses. Like those, the Calamity infected the bodies and the souls of victims with parts of its own body. The time of incubation varied greatly from one subject to another, but in the end the victim always suffered mental degradation and physical mutation, turning ultimately into a monster. Said time of incubation depended greatly on the willpower of the infected one. Mentally weak people succumbed far more quickly to the possession than the strong-willed ones. Physical endurance also played a major role, since physically weak people died even before the possession began.

There's no need to say how horrified the Cetra were at the changes brought upon their own kin, and their horror was even greater when they discovered what the Calamity planned to do: It wanted to awaken Omega by killing as many living beings as possible, infect Omega and travel to another living world to consume it as well and repeat the process time after time.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

**Sealing the Calamity:**

Although their number had been dramatically diminished by the Great War, the Cetra fought against the monsters that began plaguing their homeland. They found out that their only hope was to summon _Holy_, the most powerful magic of the White Magic school, whose power was condensed within the White Materia, counterpart of the infamous Black one. Such was the mission of the Healers, while the rest took their weapons and marched towards the North Crater.

Their struggle was great, and many were the losses (the Guilds of the Black Mages and the Job-Traders were utterly annihilated), but the Calamity could be at last imprisoned within the Planet with the power of Holy. Such heroic deed couldn't have been accomplished without the sacrifice of the Warriors' leader and beloved Queen of all Cetra, _Mihn-Ur_, whose last fight against the Calamity was sung and remembered long after those years. It is speculated that the epic poem Loveless is in fact the ancient _Lay of Mihn-Ur_, but it has been changed, either deliberately or because of several mistranslations, so the Queen's name and role were altered with time, therefore the version we know nowadays presents the Ancient Queen as a goddess named Minerva.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

**Minerva and Loveless:**

Being Loveless such a famous play in our time, and being it surrounded by such mystery due to the disappearing of the last chapter, one cannot oversee the similarities between the ancient manuscripts and what remains of the modern play.

The "Lay of Mihn-Ur" tells the story of the tragic love that the last Queen of the Cetra shared with a general of her army, whose name was Ruilen. The original version had the two of them as the main protagonists, centering the plot on Ruilen's infection by the Calamity, on his request that his beloved Queen had to be the one who killed him before it was too late and how Mihn-Ur acceded ruefully.

Such tragic event didn't weaken the Queen, who received the _Spirit Gem_ of Ruilen, whose significance is still surrounded by mystery. Enough to say that it had a strong protection spell against almost any form of damage, and it is considered the key for the ultimate success in the end.

The last chapter in the original manuscript tells all the story of the battle and its sad outcome with the death of Mihn-Ur and her return to the Planet, along with Ruilen's spirit. It is impossible to know how this part has been changed, since the last chapter of Loveless is now lost.

The similarities don't manifest through the characters, but through many of the quotes, which have been conserved as they were written. Some examples are given next:

ACT II

(When referring to Ruilen)

_There is no hate, only joy_

_For you are beloved by the Queen (_goddess_, in the modern version)_

_Hero of the dawn, healer of worlds_

(Ruilen has been already affected by the Calamity)

_Dreams of the morrow hath the shattered soul_

_Pride is lost_

_Wings stripped away, the end is nigh_

Act IV

(Mihn-Ur's monologue about the Calamity, swearing vengeance after killing Ruilen)

_My soul, corrupted by vengeance_

_Hath endured torment, to find the end of the journey_

_In my own salvation_

_And your eternal slumber_

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

**(Extract from Prof. Gast's personal notes)**

**Spirit Gem:**

Made with memories and will of a deceased person. It can ease both spiritual pain and the physical ache derived from it. The bearer is chosen directly by the owner of the soul dwelling in the stone and is always someone dear.

Though it's considered a sealed spirit, it can communicate and interact with the outside world at will. That fact has led us to consider it a _vessel_, instead of a mere prison.

It is said that when the bearer finally dies, the stone will break, freeing the spirit of the protector, and together they will return to the Lifestream. But there have been cases when the protector's soul pushed back the other's spirit into his or her body, thus, reviving him or her.

According to the records, the only ones who cloud create this kind of Materia were the members of the Warriors' Guild, while its use was broader, with the only condition that the bearer had to carry Cetran blood through his or her veins.

Mihn-Ur, the last Cetran Queen, was said to wear such a stone during the Battle of the Calamity. Though the existence of such artifacts is yet to be confirmed, it was clear that its protection was the key against the Calamity, allowing the Queen to withstand against the enemy.


	30. 30 Of a Promise and a Resolution

**Disclaimer:** Again, I don't own any character of Final Fantasy, any of them, much to my dismay (I wish I could own pre-psycho Sephiroth all to me, but it cannot be).

This fanfict has been inspired by the song of Yann Tiersen, "Comptine d'un Autre Étè".

Many thanks to everyone for their encouragement, corrections and ideas.

Enjoy!

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

**CHAPTER ****30.**

XXXXXX-X-XXXXXX

Dawn still wasn't near.

Aerith snuggled against the pillow. She felt sleepy, but she didn't want to close her eyes again. Last night she didn't have nightmares, instead she had very pleasant dreams, yet they were torturing her.

She still couldn't shake away the feeling of strong arms holding her against a firm and warm body, or of a silky silver mane caressing her cheeks and trailing between her fingers and arms, or of soft lips kissing her skin, or of a deep, purring voice whispering in her ear, making her fall into a delicious drowsiness.

"_This is ridiculous,"_ she thought in dismay._ "I've never been with him, why should I dream those things?"_

What filled her with bafflement was that she never, ever dreamed about such things. Not even when she was with Zack did she dream about him.

She wasn't entirely ignorant of sexual intercourses. Back at the Slums she sometimes sold flowers to the girls around the Honeybee Manor, to whom she often asked for counsel; at first she though they were going to laugh at her ignorance about such matters, but they didn't. They were rather nice with her, explaining with detail everything concerning those themes. Maybe that was why she never approached a boy. She didn't need to explore to know what to expect of a man.

"_If it's going to hurt,"_ she often thought._ "At least I want to do it with a man who loves me."_

And Zack seemed to be that man, but he disappeared and then he died far away.

Now she found himself dreaming about Sephiroth.

Sephiroth had taken care of her; he had protected her against Jenova, and suffered her wrath because of it. And maybe he was about to suffer more, since he let her go in the end.

"_He let me go,"_ she reassured herself._ "But I still don't know why. Was he going to return to Jenova?"_

She sat down suddenly, apprehension seizing her heart. She hoped that Ania's soul was strong enough to protect him against Jenova's hold.

"Are you ok?" Tifa asked sleepily from her bed.

"Yeah, I'm sorry," Aerith whispered back.

The girls had been given a bedroom at the inn. For the boys, Cid had insisted on sleeping in his airplane, Vincent just roamed the wilderness at night, since he didn't really need to sleep, and Nanaki was at Bugen's home, so the only ones also at the inn were Barret, Cloud and Caith Sith, who surely was slumped in a corner, disconnected.

Aerith laid back again and stared at the ceiling.

"You're thinking about him, aren't you?" said Tifa.

Aerith sat again. Tifa was sat too, cross-legged. Yuffie's snoring could still be heard in the farthest bed.

"You're thinking about Sephiroth," the female warrior repeated.

The flower girl blushed.

"How do you know?"

"It's clear. You used to be very cheerful, but now you seem too serious and absentminded. You defend him and you haven't stopped sighing. Are you sure that he has changed for real?"

"I don't know," said Aerith, shaking her head. "Yesterday I learnt a lot of things about myself and about him, and now I believe even more in what he told me about himself. I'm sorry, I know it looks like I don't care about what Cloud and you have been through, but I do. It's so complicated," she said, hugging her knees and burying her face in her arms.

After some moments she heard Tifa shifting on the mattress.

"I was asking you because… I don't know how to explain it," said Tifa. "The Sephiroth I saw with you wasn't the one I saw in our town."

"What do you mean?" asked Aerith, lifting her face.

Tifa wasn't looking at her now, but sideways, staring at some point in the darkness.

"The man I saw moved strangely, like he was a puppet, but a puppet that didn't want to move. When he wounded me with his sword, those were not the eyes I saw. They were void, as the eyes of my father were when he died. And… and the way he looked at you before going away, he seemed… strange."

"How did you notice?"

"I was in the way, don't you remember?" Tifa gazed at her again, this time with a smirk, which died quickly as she continued. "I know he could have killed all of us without effort, so I wondered why he left us alive, and why he set you free. Do you have any idea?"

"I don't know," Aerith murmured, lowering her head. "I don't know anymore."

"You like him."

The flower girl gaped at Tifa.

"You have it easier," Aerith retorted more bitterly than she had liked to. "You have Cloud near you."

That seemed to trigger something, judging by how Tifa's back straightened all of a sudden.

"Yeah, Cloud," she repeated, returning to his sideways posture.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to…"

"It's all right," said Tifa.

Both girls fell silent. Aerith felt very bad about hurting Tifa. She was her friend, and things didn't seem to go well for her either.

"It's strange and maybe you'll take me for crazy," said Tifa all of a sudden, "but there's something weird about Cloud," the fighter began. "It's… like the Cloud I knew is no more."

Tifa's dark eyes looked at her. There was doubt and fear in them.

"I don't know what's happening," she continued, "but I fear that if I find out, something terrible will happen."

"Can I tell you something?" asked the flower girl.

"Sure," replied the other.

Aerith mimicked Tifa's posture.

"When I was seventeen I was one morning at the Church, when a man came down crashing through the ceiling, just like Cloud did when we first met. It was not the only thing in which they were alike: the same sword, the same rank, even the same way of speaking and do things. Sometimes it frightens me how alike they are."

"Did you meet a SOLDIER?" asked Tifa, gaping at her.

"Yes," said Aerith with a sad smile. "He was my first love, but one day, five years ago, he went on a mission and never came back. One year ago his spirit appeared before me to say goodbye. He looked like Cloud, save for the hair, which was black."

"Black spiky hair?"

"Yes, how did you know?"

Tifa hid her face in her hands.

"I hoped that it would be only a trick of my mind," she moaned.

Aerith jumped out of her bed to sit on the other girl's.

"Did you ever see Zack?" she asked anxiously.

"My mind is too foggy," Tifa said pitifully, facing her. "But the story that Cloud tells… I know it happened for sure, but I forgot many things, and only remembered since Cloud told them to us. And I know I saw someone called Zack, but I can't remember where."

"Raisins are good for the memory, didn't you know?" said a sleepy voice which made the two girls jump in surprise.

"Yuffie, this is no joke!" Aerith reprimanded her.

"I know," retorted the ninja, sitting up and rubbing her eyes, "but you two chatting about guys in the middle of the night is no joke either. I need to sleep."

The younger girl stared hard at them (as hard as a person who has been awoken before sunrise by two chatting girls can stare), making Tifa and Aerith feel a bit embarrassed. But such severity died quickly, as Yuffie stretched rather noisily and her smile returned to her lips.

"Aaaanyway," she beamed, jumping out of her bed and going for the door, "it's almost dawn and I need to practice a little bit. See ya!"

"I wonder how she can be always so hyper," Tifa mused when the young ninja closed the door.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

"_Good,"_ Yuffie thought, _"now I can explore the place!"_

Of course the ninja wanted to practice, but she was referring to her stealth skills. Last time she tried to sneak into a building that Vincent guy caught her.

"_He didn't play fair,"_ she kept on thinking._ "If it wasn't for that blasted music he could have never caught me."_

She stopped dead on her track, a thought hitting her. She crossed her arms and cocked her head to one side, oblivious of where she was now.

"_What if he used a special Materia? Hum, could I steal it? It would be a great weapon. Imagine that: to have all your enemies crying like babies and defenseless!"_

She giggled to herself when the mental image popped in her little head.

"_Wait a minute,"_ she scratched said little head._ "He only uses his gun in combat, no music. Besides, does he keep anything in his pockets? His pants are so tight that even breathing is sure difficult. No wonder he's such a stuck up."_

A metal clank alerted her. Promptly, she was stuck to the wall, hidden in the shadows of the corridor. No one came, and the metal clanking could still be heard, though Yuffie realized that it came from a door left ajar, letting the artificial light from a room to pour into the passage. She approached silently and peered inside of what looked like a library.

Vincent was there. He was going to and fro, clanking his way through the room, apparently returning the books to their place in the shelves. Her heart stopped when his voice resounded in the room.

"You can come in, Yuffie," he said aloud in his husk voice, never looking at the door. "Books won't bite you."

"_Damnit!"_ she cursed mentally.

Yuffie opened the door and stepped inside cautiously. The man kept on ignoring her.

"How did you know I was there?" she asked.

"I heard you giggling," he answered. "And talking alone about something related to Materia and tight pants."

"Is… is that so?" she said casually, her cheeks starting to light up uncomfortably.

"I have keen ears, should you know."

"What are you doin' here, anyway? Thought you were outside," asked the ninja, hoping that it would make drop the matter.

"I wanted to do some research," was all his response before being silent again.

He had finished ordering the books; now he stood against a table, his arms crossed over his chest and those red eyes looking at her in that unnerving way, which made Yuffie think quickly about an excuse which would allow her to go out of there as fast as possible.

"By the way," he continued all of a sudden. "I wanted to thank you."

"Uh? Me? What for?"

"The book you gave to me. It had some information that I needed and there's nowhere else in this world where I could obtain it."

"Oh, that," she half giggled nervously. "You owe me one, that's all."

"Agreed."

"Really?" Yuffie exclaimed, wide eyed. It was the first time that someone took her seriously.

He nodded solemnly.

"The only condition is that you must keep the existence of that book a secret. Understood?"

"A-kay!" she clapped and hopped in delight. "Piece of cake, Vince! Now I have to go out, see ya later!"

Her last words could still be heard down the corridor as she half ran, half jumped her way out. Vincent snorted and shook his head.

"Kids these days… Giving you nicknames before even knowing you."

The gunman turned around to the table, picking up the last book and opening it. He took the piece of paper he had hidden inside it before Yuffie came in, and hid it inside one of the many pockets of his garments. Then his hand went to his heart. There was where he kept the little book that Yuffie had discovered and given to him. She was right, he owed her one.

Besides, what could a girl of only sixteen ask for, anyway?

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

The morning light shone in a clear blue sky.

The group was gathered around the everlasting fire, like the night before.

"Where's Aerith?" asked Cloud.

"She's up at Bugen's place," said Tifa. "She said she wanted to talk with him."

"That reminds me," interrupted Cid. "Where are we goin' now? We saved the lassie, but that Sephiroth guy escaped."

"That is yet to decide," answered Vincent who, unlike the night before, was eating with them. "I'd suggest that we wait for Aerith to come back."

All fell silent. Now that Aerith was with them they felt relieved, but there was still Sephiroth left to deal with.

A little girl came running. She told them to head to Bugenhagen's house, because he wanted a word with all of them.

And there they climbed, more puzzled than ever. Aerith was there, along with Nanaki and the old man. Cloud noticed how the girl seemed to be very nervous.

"Ho ho hoo, there you are at last!" was Bugenhagen's greeting. "There's something that your young friend wants to tell you."

He nodded towards the girl, who stepped forward and cleared her throat.

"You know that the Black Materia has been stolen," she began. There was a pause, for she was expecting that someone blamed Sephiroth for that. Since no one said a thing, she continued. "The Black Materia casts a powerful spell: it summons a meteor to crash into the Planet…"

"What tha hell?" Barret exclaimed, but a raised hand of Bugenhagen silenced him.

"The thing is…" she continued, "that we know that it's Jenova who wants to wound the Planet, and there's only one way to stop it. My mother's Materia seems to be the key, and I'll have to travel to the Forgotten Capital to the North. I was wondering… whether you'd like to accompany me."

She bowed her head, not wanting to see their embarrassed looks when they said that they couldn't, that she was safe now and that their job was done.

"That's all?" asked Tifa.

Aerith raised her head, surprised.

"Huh?"

"And that was why you were so worried about?" Tifa kept saying. "Of course! Sign me in! Right, Cloud?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, that's right. We can't just leave you."

"The same goes fer me!" said Barret.

"Well, you numbskulls will need transport, and my baby is more than ready to make another trip," it was Cid's turn.

"But what 'bout this?" asked Barret, pointing to Caith Sith.

"I have a name, you know," the toy complained.

"Shut up, Shinra lapdog!"

"Ho ho hoo!" interrupted Bugenhagen. "Come to think of it, I think I saw you before."

"M-me?" said Caith, quite nervously.

"What's happening?" Aerith whispered to Tifa.

"Bugen said yesterday that he had seen Caith many years ago," the other girl whispered back. "But he forgot where. Can you believe that he worked for Shinra when he was young?"

"Really?"

"He told us so, and many people in the village know it."

They couldn't keep on gossiping, because they didn't want to miss the old man's explanation.

"Yes, though the first prototypes weren't like you," said Bugenhagen. "They were going to be normal looking pets. I wonder whose idea was to use the Fairy King of Cats as a model."

"Well, I…" Caith seemed to be at a loss for words; something quite unusual for him. "I only knew this form, you see. I've been 'round many years, even before the Company became Shinra Electric."

"Ho ho hoo! Then I think I might know who your creator is," said the old man, before turning to the rest of the group. "I can guarantee his reliability."

"Whaddaya mean?" yelled Barret. "He gave away our position to Shinra!"

"I told you I had no choice," defended Caith. "I'm an employee. I also have a family to protect, like you. I promise that your daughter and Mrs. Gainsborough are safe and sound."

"What?" Aerith exclaimed wide eyed.

"We forgot to tell you," said Cloud, embarrassed. "So many things have happened…"

"He's talking 'bout my mother!" she yelled to him, making the ex SOLDIER back away. Then her fury was directed against the stuffed cat. "What have you done to her?"

"As I said, I did nothing," Caith answered calmly. "They are hidden from Shinra in a safe place," he bowed his crowned head. "I'm very sorry for what I've done but, you see, you aren't the only ones who have someone to protect."

The flower girl kneeled in front of the toysaurus. She looked at Caith with pleading eyes, having spent all her wrath, now only her fear remaining.

"Could I speak with her, please?" she asked with a trembling voice.

"I… I'm sorry, but right now I'm at the offices," Caith apologized, scratching the back of his head. "I'll have to travel to where they are. I promise that soon I'll do it and you could speak with your mom."

"You promise?" repeated Aerith.

"Don't worry," said Bugenhagen. "I know him and he would never harm a lady."

Aerith seemed to accept those words of the old man then. Barret eyed viciously the stuffed cat but said nothing.

"Nanaki," said Cloud. "You haven't said a word. Are you going to stay at your home?"

The red beast smirked knowingly.

"I tagged along before you came in. I didn't say anything because I didn't want to influence your decision."

All seemed to be settled. Before they set off, they had time to buy supplies and other necessary things, and Aerith could receive the last advices from Bugenhagen, along with a certain object that she asked most earnestly to carry with her.

Many people from the village bid their farewell as the Tiny Bronco took off. It felt nice to be in Cosmo Canyon, where they were considered something closer to heroes than to vulgar terrorists (which in some cases it was the crude truth).

"Sorry to have taken you out from your place so soon," said Cloud to Nanaki.

The red beast shook his head.

"Do not worry about me," he said. "Grandfather said that I needed to see the Planet by myself and learn from what I saw. When I return, I'll tell my story to him and to the rest of the village."

Cloud nodded and went to his seat. Sometimes he wondered if he would ever be able to tell his story to someone.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

**End of chapter 30.**

Next stop: The Forgotten Capital, where something traumatic is going to happen. Bring bleach to clean the blood from the altar, please. (Insert evil cackle here)


	31. 31 The Hands Stained With Innocent Blood

**Disclaimer:** Again, I don't own any character of Final Fantasy, any of them, much to my dismay (I wish I could own pre-psycho Sephiroth all to me, but it cannot be).

This fanfict has been inspired by the song of Yann Tiersen, "Comptine d'un Autre Étè".

Many thanks to everyone for their encouragement, corrections and ideas.

Enjoy!

**AN:** Have you brought the bleach? Yes? Good. Here you have a super-long chapter, because I don't like cliffhangers and I just love tragedies. So there.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

**CHAPTER ****31.**

_Trust I seek but I find in you_

_Every day for us, something new_

_Open mind for a different view_

_'Cause nothing else matters_

_**Nothing else Matters – Metallica.**_

XXXXXX-X-XXXXXX

After letting Aerith go with the others, he rushed back to the Temple to discover that the Black Materia had disappeared. He stood there, unmoving, thinking fast about who could have taken it away. The Turks couldn't have done that, for they were far away when he carried Aerith out of the Temple and he didn't think that Cloud's group could have done that if they were blaming it on him, though he felt the same tingling sensation inside the Chamber than when he had faced the spiky haired blond, though slightly different.

It felt like when Mother contacted with him, though far weaker. It couldn't be. Mother had sent him to fetch the Black Materia for her, while she went to the Northern Continent.

Before his mind could think more about it, the pendant began to shine brightly, and all went black for him.

_xxxxxxxxxxxx_

_He was in a street of __the upper plate of Midgar. The sky was darkening already and the neon lights reflected on the damp pavement. It was raining faintly. Sephiroth extended his hand, but the drops went through his hand as if he were a ghost._

"_Am I dead?" he thought, alt__hough the idea didn't frighten him._

_Trying to find something he could recognize, he noticed that the street was full of faceless people. They _did_ have faces, but their features were so hazy he couldn't distinguish anything. The swordsman began to wonder if another vision of the mysterious man was visiting him again, when he heard a sobbing from a near alley, and then the soothing voice of a woman. His eyes grew wider in surprise, his breath stilled in his throat: At the alley's entrance there was a middle aged woman talking to a lost child, who was sitting curled in a ball against the wall. A silver haired child. Then she took him in her arms and carried him away._

"_Ania…" Sephiroth breathed._

_It was her! Suddenly he remembered: She had been the woman who rescued him when he was a child. Sephiroth followed them down the street, but the whole city vanished around him in a grey haze. The next thing he saw was his five-year-old self sitting with Ania in a living room; he was half asleep on the sofa while the woman played the piano. That scene surely happened some days after she had found him. His hand went to his chest; it was a bittersweet feeling, watching his younger self dozing on a sofa, clutching a stuffed chocobo like any normal child. He could remember that, for the first time in his life, there were no white-clad people around to hurt him with needles or to attach him to strange machines. And her house was the strangest place he had ever seen though, as he bitterly understood now, it was just a normal house, but at that age it shocked him how soft the beds were, and how irregular the pieces of furniture looked, in comparison with the computers at the laboratory. Still, he felt happy among that chaos that felt so warm and welcoming compared to the cold perfection of his little grey world. _

_But o__ne day the Turks came to retrieve him. Ania couldn't make anything to prevent it, though she gave him her blue pendant. And he had to return to his personal hell, the Hell where everything was made of metal and crystal, where there were no windows to look outside. Everything was cold, grey and perfectly aligned and ordered._

_The moment he arrived after his little escape Hojo was there, sneering as always. The man looked __in disgust at the little toy the kid clutched against his chest, before stretching out his hand to take it away from him. Sephiroth watched quite amused how, for the first time in his life, his little self yelled and backed away and, when Hojo swore under his breath and tried to snatch it by force, the child fought back, biting Hojo's hand with such strength that he made the man bleed._

_Than__fully Professor Gast was there to intervene. He scolded Hojo severely for scaring the child and ordered him to leave the kid keeping whatever he had brought from the outside world. That was how he was able to keep the pendant._

_But that first night alone after his little adventure he cried in his bed, because he wanted to see Ania again.__ His little mind couldn't understand yet that she didn't belong to his world and that maybe he would never see her again; he called her name and, as if in response to his distress, the blue pendant began to glow, and he heard a voice calming him. That voice was Ania's husband, Mark. Sephiroth remembered that it was the only thing that prevented him from falling into a spiral of madness. Not knowing that the outside world was real was less painful than catching a glimpse of it before being thrown again into the dark pit they called _laboratory_. Mark never stopped whispering comforting words and easing his physical pain as Sephiroth grew up, and he was the one who kept his memories of Ania intact, telling the kid that she loved him and that she was waiting for him._

_As he grew up,__ Gast disappeared one day, telling Sephiroth that he would come back for him, but leaving no trace of his whereabouts to the rest of his fellow scientists. Sephiroth always wondered why he never showed up again and he felt a little betrayed and resentful because Gast didn't take him to the outside world. Now that he could look back at his childhood, he realized that some kind of misfortune must have happened to him, for it was not like him to abandon someone._

_When he was about ten there was a sudden change__ for him. He was moved from the labs to the upper floors. They told him that he was going to become a SOLDIER and, though he was now out of the laboratories, his movements were restricted to certain floors. He didn't know what really meant to be a SOLDIER, but he knew he had no choice. It was funny though, to train with swords, and he enjoyed learning about Materia and tactics._

_Sephiroth smiled, watching how an eleven-year-old self sneaked his way outside the __building. Stupid Hojo, who never suspected anything about his memorizing capabilities. At that age, Sephiroth had the whole map of the Shinra building already learnt by heart, and he had been able to memorize the routines of the cleaning staff. It had been easy to hide inside a cleaning trolley and be carried to the lower floors. There he used the stairs, a solitary place, since everyone used the elevators. Wandering outside the building had been a terrifying experience, but the pendant guided him to Ania. That was how they met again._

_He remembered __to have cried upon finding her again. Though the pendant guided him, he still had the fear that everything had been just his imagination. But she was real and she was there, like her house. His visits were never as regular as he would have liked, but he went to see her whenever he could. He learnt to play her piano, and managed to get one for his own room._

_Images of those years passed before his eyes. He had many companions in his trainee's years but they either feared him or mocked at his looks. Soon the second group came to join the first one, since he challenged to a duel anyone who dared to make fun of him. Thus, he was always alone. Not that he cared by that time, because he really didn't feel that he belonged to their groups. Finally, at the age of thirteen he was sent to Junon for a full-year intensive training, and then they returned to Midgar._

_His chest ached, echoing the tearing pain he felt when he saw Ania so ill and when she died at last__. Sephiroth recalled the emptiness of those days. He had lost the only thing he had ever cherished, and now he was alone, for he had put the blue pendant around her neck when they had buried her. Everything lost its meaning from that moment; he just wanted to be left alone. Not even tears would come to his eyes the first days, until he finally broke down in the silence and solitude of his room, letting all the pain he carried inside him go out._

"_Are tears a sign of weakness?" he wondered, watching his fourteen-year-old self sobbing with his face buried in his hands._

_And then he__ had changed. It was strange to remember that he had forgotten something at some point in his life, and how. It had been after an unusual physical exam with Hojo, when he had attached him to that strange machine. He forgot Ania, her charm, now buried along with her, and everything concerning her. He changed into a cold being, not concerned by anyone or anything at first, and not able to understand what emotions where, for his heart had forgotten how to feel._

_More people came to join SOLDIER. Among those boys there were two __outstanding students who soon reached First Class. Their faces were clouded at first, but he distinguished them at last: one had an auburn mop of hair, aqua eyes and a mischievous smile, matching his sometimes impish character; the other had raven hair and deep blue eyes, he had always a stern air about him, but his heart was the gentlest of the three._

Genesis.

Angeal.

_His only friends. His brothers. The only ones who had tried to break that hard shell o__n which Hojo had locked him up, and succeeded on making him feeling some kind of empathy towards them and, with time, towards other people, though he always was considered aloof and reserved. They were the only ones who accepted him as what he really was, and never feared him; Genesis never refused to spar with him, and Angeal never hesitated about interfering when things got out of hand._

_The last time things got out of hand._

_Sephiroth watched that last spar, trembling with rage at his own stupidity. He wanted to grab his adult self and beat him, until he could instill some sense inside that hard skull of his. It was his fault that Genesis received that wound. He should have stopped but, as always, he had to prove his superiority and that cost him his only family. Genesis' wound wasn't important, but it didn't close and bled to the point of needing a blood transfusion. He had offered his own blood, because remorse was unbearable, but he was rejected, being Angeal the one chosen in his place._

_Not until several months later did he discover why he wasn't fit._

_Angeal and Genesis were the result of the other branch of the Jenova Experiment, directed by Professor Hollander: Project G. _G_ from _Gillian_, Angeal and Genesis' biological mother, and assistant to Hollander. Little they knew about their shared heritage until that incident, and little they knew about what would await them. Jenova's DNA was killing them, deteriorating and weakening them. Upon discovering it, Genesis deserted from Shinra. He became an outlaw, pursued by his former coworkers, thought not by his friends._

_Angeal went with him shortly after that in an attempt to convince Genesis on returning to Shinra, but his plan __never worked. Tragedy struck, and Gillian took her life out of shame about what she had done. His friends became more and more desperate, because there was another side effect of their condition: Angeal and Genesis grew wings on a side of their backs, and they thought of themselves as monsters._

_Even he tried to reason with Genesis, but to no avail. He was obsessed with Loveless. He firmly believed that the three friends __described in the play were them and that they were going to reproduce the roles of the one who took flight, the prisoner and the hero. Sephiroth felt frustrated and helpless. His only family was slipping away and he could do nothing to prevent it. The oh-so-called most powerful SOLDIER could do nothing to save the only ones he esteemed and respected._

_Angeal died in a duel. It was his way to regain his pride as a warrior, as a SOLDIER. The__ one who slain him was his own pupil, now a First Class too. There was another SOLDIER First Class as well._

Zack Fair.

_His first impression when Angeal introduced them was that the boy was too innocent for that kind of world. And he was right. Having to slain Angeal was a hard hit __for Zack. Sephiroth never knew why he ever bothered on lifting his spirits and comforting him. Maybe it was out of gilt, because the one who should have gone to all those missions involving his friends was him; since he declined to go to Banora, and he failed on killing them when they were at the Reactor 5, Lazard sent Zack to Modeoheim._

_Sephiroth never resented Zack for what he did. __Besides, it had been Angeal's will to end that way. He now cursed himself because it had to be Zack who made him realize how serious the fact that a friend died was, and that people needed each other for support. It had been Hojo's fault that he could never understand those things again when he was an adult._

_Anger bubbled inside him as he realized that it had been because of Hojo's deeds why Jenova had taken control of him. If only he had been capable of maintaining his own identity, he would have never killed those people in Nibelhein, he would have never…_

_His blood ran cold, remembering how h__e rejected to aid Genesis. Just when the redhead revealed the whole truth to him, Sephiroth slapped him with his disdain. Surely he was dead by now. Five years had passed since then; there was no way he could have survived all that time without aid._

_Suddenly, Aerith's image at the Railway appeared before him. Her words, talking about her own past, echoed through his mind: _"Five years ago, I met a man. He was in SOLDIER, just like you, and he was going to be promoted to First Class. He once told me about you and the ones who were also First Class. Surely you had to meet him, his name was Zack Fair."

_He had killed Zack__. He was sure he had killed him at Nibelheim, there was no way he could have survived his attacks. Sephiroth had been fighting to death._

_And then…_

_The one who truly defeated him was that boy, Cloud. He wasn't a SOLDIER, but a raw recruit._

"Jenova took over your body, why wouldn't she also change your memories?"_ Aerith's voice resounded again inside him._

_Now he understood: Mother blocked that second part of his life, changing all his memories, all what he had been._

Mother.

_He sneered bitterly. The creature he had been calling _Mother_ was only a parasite; now he knew that. The Ancients, the Cetra, they weren't the enemy, they were the victims. Being used like a puppet by Jenova was something, but knowing that she took away what little humanity was left of him, and his only family…_

_xxxxxxxxxxxx_

He woke up face first on the cold stone floor, trembling, breathing fast and with his heart pounding on his chest. How much time had passed, he didn't know, but his body hurt like he had been wrestling with a Behemoth.

A voice urged him to open his eyes. He did so, thought with effort and through his clouded sigh he saw the pendant next to his face, glowing faintly.

"Ania…" he muttered, as he felt a lump in his throat and his eyes began to burn.

He found enough strength to sit down and rest his back against the stone altar.

"How? How could I forget?" he muttered.

His head throbbed as a stinging pain made him cringe. If Jenova was responsible for his amnesia, she could have also been responsible of his attacks and all his past suffering. His hands clenched into fists when he realized how he had been just a puppet his entire life, to the point of having been stripped off his memories and his personality: Hojo, when Sephiroth was a boy, and then Jenova, when he was an adult, those two creatures had been manipulating him, toying with him for their own sick pleasure.

Still shaking, he held on to the stone altar and got up.

Sephiroth cursed aloud with a voice trembling with rage. Realizing now what he had done pained too much. It had been his fault that his only friends were now dead. After being so loyal to Angeal and Genesis, he betrayed them in the end. And the Planet was at the brink of destruction because of his own stupidity and blindness.

There was something which still nagged at him. The trail of Jenova's presence still lingered in the Chamber. There were, in fact, two trails that he could distinguish. One was Cloud's but he couldn't recognize the other. Sephiroth felt a shiver down his spine when he realized what did that mean, as he recalled what Jenova told him once:

"_Go, my son. Purge this Planet from the unworthy. The clean ones will receive me like you received me before you were born, so they can do my will."_

A wave of panic engulfed him. If he was the result of an experiment, who could say that there weren't more like him? That would explain what he felt when he was near Cloud. Then he had made a terrible mistake by leaving Aerith with him. But, how come that Cloud had also Jenova cells inside him if he never made into SOLDIER?

He swore aloud and ran for the exit, his own fear for the girl giving him enough strength. There would be enough time to find answers, but first he had to find Aerith.

The sound of his footsteps lost in the distance, and the Chamber was silent again, like it had been during the last two thousand years.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

Aerith sat by the window, looking at the sea below them, smiling absently; her mind was in a very different location: in a Gelnika's hold. She pressed her hand on her left side of her chest, where she guarded a special item. It was not a magical stone, like the previous time. It was only a little worn-out notebook. It served as evidence of what she had found out and, hopefully, to convince a certain someone of her discoveries.

"Hold on to yer seats!" Cid yelled from the cabin. "We're arrivin'!"

The landing was not very rough, since the skilled pilot could find a grassland area. When they got out of the plane, a chilly wind hit their faces, making them shiver.

Luckily, Tifa had thought about everything and she had arranged several coats for everyone (in addition to a pair of woolen tights for each girl). Aerith accepted gladly her own and put it on immediately, finding that it fitted her perfectly, covering her down to her knees. Tifa also had one, so did Yuffie. And the boys refused to do so: Cloud claimed that he never get cold, so did Barret, and Cid and Vincent stated that they were already well clothed.

"These men…" Tifa shrugged, when said men were already walking towards the forest. "Always playing the macho man role."

Aerith and Yuffie giggled at that and set off behind their partners. Somehow, the flower girl felt a certain level of exhilaration, being with her friends. Maybe there were her nerves, seeking any valve of escape, which made her laugh at everything.

According to Bugenhagen's explanation, they had to search for a little village in the forest's outskirts and ask for the Lunar Arp, for that artifact made possible to cross the forest without getting lost. Soon they could locate the village: just a small group of tents gathered around gigantic skeletons of long-forgotten beasts. They all were archaeologists, looking for evidences of ancient civilizations.

They approached the largest tent, seeking for the one in charge. A middle aged woman greeted them. She was short and plump, and had an air of authority about her.

"Good morning," she said. "Are you the new apprentices?"

"No, no, we aren't," said Cloud waving his hand. "We only want to cross the Sleeping Forest. They told us that we would need the Lunar Harp to do so."

The woman seemed a little disappointed.

"Ah well, anyway, my name is Martha," she said in what seemed to be her most business-like tone while she extended one hand to Cloud. "We are currently searching for the Lunar Harp, though I have to say that maybe there are more than one. You should go to Erik over there," she said, signaling a lean, balding man who argued with several people over a map. "He will tell you where to begin with. And if you need something, just talk with me, ok?"

Erik was a bossy fellow. Not that he liked to subjugate people, but one had to display good commanding skills to handle a good number of subordinates. Once they explained him their situation, he seemed very happy about having more hands to help with the excavations.

They were assigned to several spots all over the camp. Cid lent them a hand with the explosives, while Barret and Cloud provided a great help with their muscle force. But hour passed without any trace of the Lunar Harp.

"Why tha hell we gotta find tha' harp, anyway?" Barret asked in the lunchtime break.

"Because you would get lost in the Sleeping Forest without it," answered Erik, who had joined the new group in the recess. "The Sleeping Forest doesn't have that name by chance. If you approach the bushes, you will see that not even with a chainsaw you could cut them. Word is that the Lunar Harp has the power to awaken the forest, and grant entrance to those who seek it. Still don't know how this fellow could enter without it."

All stopped eating.

"Did anyone come before us?" Vincent said.

"Oh, yes, there was this strange man," said Erik. "He was short, all dressed in black and with a hood. He wouldn't show his face to anyone and he talked pretty strange," he shrugged. "As I said, he entered the Forest without the Harp."

"Why didn't you stop him?" Tifa exclaimed.

"One of our apprentices tried to restrain him, but that man attacked her," he shook his head. "No one could have suspected that he would do that. One looked at him and only saw a limping, stocky creature, with only enough strength to maintain himself on his feet, when all of a sudden he leaps at you like a snake. He only broke her arm, but she will be unable to do more that trace maps with her good hand for weeks."

"But you said that no one could trespass the foliage!" said Cloud.

"Yes, but this man said something and the bushes parted for him. It was quite strange, because no Materia glowed when he spoke the words."

That couldn't have been Sephiroth; he was too bulky to match that description.

Cloud went pale and kept on eating in silence, focused in the plate on his hands. Aerith noticed it, but said nothing. They weren't in a contest to see who was wrong and who was right; the life of the Planet depended on them right now.

Since the lunch break was pretty long, Aerith decided to take a walk around the village. Yuffie accompanied her, because she hated being sitting around doing nothing.

Their idle chat was interrupted when Yuffie noticed how Aerith's Materia glowed at certain point, and they had an idea; they retrieved their shovels and began to dig. The others were attracted by their excited antics and helped to dig too. Since the spot was outside the excavation area, it would have been quite possible that the Harp was there, so that would be why no one had found it yet.

Indeed, the Lunar Harp was there. It was Barret who discovered it at last. The dark skinned man lifted it with his human hand before passing it to Erik, who dusted it.

"My word!" the man exclaimed. "This is the real Harp!"

Erik handed the mystical instrument to those members of the group who wished to hold it for a moment, before carrying it to Martha to announce their discovering.

"It's a wonderful surprise!" said the woman. "I've been waiting since I was a student to behold this instrument. Only one man was said to have found it in the last two centuries before you."

"Ah, you mean professor Gast?" Erik commented. "I heard he was quite the authority in Cetran lore."

"Excuse us, Martha," Cloud interrupted, sensing an upcoming endless dissertation from the two archaeologists. "We are in a hurry, could we use it?"

"Oh, of course," she said, handling him the instrument.

She guided them to the Forest's entrance with the entire encampment in tow. It seemed quite the show for those people (their lives were very monotonous, for monsters never approached the place and bones never moved from where they were).

When Aerith saw Cloud examining the Lunar Harp on their way to the entrance and scratching the back of his head, she had to bite her cheeks to suppress a giggle.

"Cloud," she interrupted his musing. "Could I try to use it?"

"Oh, yeah," he said, trying to hide his embarrassment. "Here."

Aerith grabbed the Harp. It had the shape of a lyre and was made of a precious metal which was hard and icy to the touch, but it became warm if she held it close to her enough time. It also shone with a pure silver hue. She shook her head, trying to ignore how much it reminded her of Sephiroth.

At the entrance, all were silent, waiting for her. The girl blushed, trying to recall from what she had seen on the TV how such instrument was played. Finally, and without fumbling too much, she held it properly and readied herself.

Just when her fingers were close to the silver strings, a single note sounded. It was the purest sound they had ever heard. It grew and grew in volume, never hurting their ears, but awakening the Forest at last. The bushes and trees swayed as if moved by a gentle breeze at first, to become more and more agitated, though no wind blew. Finally, the bushes opened up, revealing a clean path through the Sleeping Forest as the note died away.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

The walk didn't seem so long, but it looked like they had walked into another world.

Just at the exit of the forest, a stone road began its twisting way to the valley below, where strange buildings shaped like seashells laid scattered here and there. Most of them were in ruins, but many seemed still intact. They began exploring the city. In that place, "Ancient" was more than a word, it was a feeling, not in a decadent way, but as if they had traveled back into time. The air seemed younger, and even the sky looked different, as if it had never known any pollution.

Aerith began to wander along the ancient streets, careful not to go too far.

Here she felt the voice of the Lifestream stronger than ever. Maybe that was why her ancestors chose this place. Though it was a ghost city, she felt finally at home. It was strange how the silence of the ruins soothed her soul, instead of filling her with fear. If she was asked to remain here, she wouldn't doubt a second.

Her Materia began to react again. She disentangled it from her braid and held it on her opened palm. It was pulsing with regularity, as if it was a beating heart.

They were calling her.

She kept on walking, oblivious to the rest of the world, until she reached a natural pool of water. There the city ended and the forest began again. On the other shore of the little lake there was an enormous structure, which she soon recognized: it was the place where the Healers gathered to pray for Holy. She had found it!

Aerith ran towards the building's entrance, feeling lucky that it was one of the constructions which were still intact.

Down and down she went, always having the voices as guidance, until she reached a strange chamber. It was weird because it seemed not to have any ceiling, just a brilliant brightness from above with bathed everything with a white light. There was also a pool down there, but this one had an altar erected on its middle, surrounded by a stone railing and with small pedestals to arrive at it.

When she stood on that altar she knew that she had reached the place. Kneeling, she placed her Materia in front of her, where it glowed constantly with a soft green light.

She lost the track of time as she felt the voices from the Lifestream filling her mind. They were greeting her, some of them warning her about an imminent danger, some others just soothing her fears. Never before had she felt so at peace, and never before had she felt such a strong sense of fulfillment. She only wished that she could share that moment with Sephiroth. Aerith could not hold back her tears when she thought about him, of how much Jenova would make him suffer when he returned with empty hands. No matter how many voices whispered comforting words in her mind, her concern was still too deep.

Then she prayed for Holy to come to their aid. She had never been taught how it should be done; it was something that coursed through her veins. She was a Healer after all, one who could commune with the Lifestream and with all the souls inside it. But she sensed a barrier. The Planet was answering her, he wanted to be cured, to be saved from the peril, but there was something blocking the way to the spell; the voices from the Lifestream said so.

She felt another voice calling for her, but this one wasn't in her mind. It belonged to someone she knew, someone alive. She opened her eyes and raised her head. A lone figure was standing in front of her.

_Cloud._

He was watching her questioningly with his big cerulean eyes. The rest of the group hadn't arrived yet. She merely smiled at him.

"I found it," she whispered before bowing again her head.

This time the voices which spoke to her changed, there seemed to be a great discordance. She frowned, trying to understand what they were saying, but chaos seemed to erupt, and a voice screamed above the rest: _"Jenova!"_.

She heard a whimper in front of her and Tifa's voice screaming from afar. She lifted her gaze again and a cry froze in her throat.

The sight of Cloud with his sword upraised, ready to strike her, only lasted a second, before she closed her eyes instinctively and a loud metal clank made her heart stop.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

Just a second too late.

He didn't dare to think about what would have happened had he been just a second too late. Though the Buster Sword was no match for Masamune, the clashing of the two blades lasted several moments, during those, sparkles began to appear because of the friction, until Sephiroth swept Cloud away, making the younger warrior collide with the stone railing, breaking it and finally splashing on the water.

The silver haired man took no time: he dropped his sword and discarded his scabbard and his coat, throwing himself after the blond. The very moment Cloud had unsheathed his sword to strike Aerith, Sephiroth understood that, as he had suspected, Jenova could control the younger man to the point of forcing him to kill the one he sought to protect. Cloud has been a puppet, just as he had been once. Sephiroth had to save him because he didn't want Jenova to win.

Diving as fast as he could, he took hold of Cloud's unconscious form. He had hit the stone railing with his head, and he was leaving a faint trail of blood as he sunk in the water. Sephiroth swam back to the surface and then to the nearest shore; there he left him and backed away, for the others had arrived at their spot.

He was expecting them to shield Cloud, to protect him from the bloodthirsty beast he was supposed to be, but what he encountered was bewildered looks in their faces, even the girl from Nibelheim (Tifa, if he could remember well), who was now kneeled beside Cloud. All were watching him in mute amazement.

The Chamber resounded with the din of hurried footsteps. A frail figure appeared from behind the group, passing them and throwing herself into Sephiroth's arms, so fast that she managed to unbalance him, though he didn't fall. The swordsman was drenched and his silver bangs dripped on her hair and clothes, but she still clung to him, even when he tried to gently push her away. Then she felt how he desisted and embraced her back.

"Thank you," she whispered in a tearful voice. "I missed you so."

No one of the group moved, still too shocked at what they had witnessed. Had the world gone mad? Some of them were about to say something when Cloud groaned, regaining consciousness, and he grunted something in a weak voice.

"She's all right," Sephiroth heard Tifa telling him.

Aerith pushed the swordsman lightly when she heard Tifa, and she looked back at Sephiroth.

"It was _her_, right?" she asked.

He nodded and she stepped back, going to where Cloud was. The group moved away as Aerith approached the pair and kneeled beside them. Tifa was trying to restrain the blood from the back of the blond head.

"I-I'm sorry…" Cloud began. He was nearly crying. "I didn't want… I don't know what…"

"It's all right," Aerith said, stroking the place where his golden spikes were stained with blood. "It wasn't your fault."

Sephiroth felt a stinging pain in his chest when a violent jealousness overtook him. However, he merely clenched his fists and gritted his teeth in silence. Aerith was too good natured to deny any comfort to anyone. That he had learnt many times along their travel.

Cloud fainted in Tifa's arms. Not surprising. When Jenova controlled one's body she drained most of the host's energy, leaving him utterly exhausted.

"Ok," said a blond, rough looking man with a lance pointing at Sephiroth's neck. "You saved the lassie and Chocobo Head, now get t'hell outta here."

The silver haired man scowled at him. Just when he was about to retort, Aerith stepped between the blond man and him.

"Cid! Don't you dare to raise a finger against him!" she roared, her delicate hands balled into little fists at her sides.

Sephiroth smirked when the one called Cid gaped at her. Surely he was the kind of man who was not used to be bossed around by women. Still, he didn't move his lance.

A black gloved hand lowered Cid's weapon without effort. It was another man, nearly as tall as Sephiroth, deathly pale, with long, black hair, clad in black and red and with a golden claw in his left hand.

"Cid, leave him alone," he said to the blond man without looking at the swordsman. Though merely a husky whisper, his voice startled Sephiroth, for it brought recognition with it. "You saw it, Cloud tried to attack Aerith."

"But," Cid protested. "But after makin' such a fuss 'bout savin' her?"

"What happened to Cloud?" asked Tifa, who was helping the tall, dark-skinned man to carry Cloud in his arms.

Sephiroth said nothing. Telling them that Jenova had been controlling Cloud might have brought the guilt onto his own shoulders. After that, wasn't he the one who had been claiming to be Jenova's son and being showing off all the powers she had granted him?

"We should discuss this later," said the man with the red cape. "Cloud needs attention. I'd suggest that we went out of here and sought for shelter in the city above."

"Awright," Cid agreed and extended his hand towards Aerith, who backed away, shaking her head.

"I'll go with you later," she said. "I have to speak with Sephiroth."

Sephiroth stepped forward when Cid swore under his breath and made a motion to grab her by force, but the lancer was stopped once again by the man with long, black hair.

"Leave them alone," he said, still not looking at the silver haired man. "She will be fine."

The lancer swore again, but protested no more. No one objected to that, and they marched in silence towards the exit. Aerith didn't move, watching them go away. Sephiroth didn't know what to say or to do, so he leaped back to the altar, to retrieve his sword and his coat.

He heard Aerith's voice calling for him, but he chose to ignore her. In his long travel to the North, he had time to ponder what had happened in her company. He had begun his transformation since he touched Ania's pendant, when the barriers Hojo and Jenova put around his emotions began to break down. Now said barrier was no more, and he found himself battling with the flood of emotions he was supposed to have mastered throughout his life. Also, he found out that many of the enhancements of his body were disappearing, like his capability to stay awake all the time or without food. In order to gain something, we must also lose something in return, that's the way of things. He regained his humanity, or at least great part of it, with all the burdens said condition implied.

The familiarity he had felt around Aerith was due to the pendant itself, and the way he desired her had nothing to do with love, just with his inability to keep his mind above his waist, as an adult man should be capable of (at least he always thought it was that way). That was what he had repeated to himself the whole time. To his dismay, when he faced Aerith again, he felt even more helpless than before, for he could indentify exactly what was happening to him. But, as much as his heart ached for the girl, he couldn't be near her. Not now. He was an assassin; his hands were tainted with the blood of many innocent people and she still had found a way to blame another creature, Jenova, for that. They had been anonymous people, though. What would she say if she came to know that he was the one who took Zack's life away? Besides, how could he be certain that she returned his feelings, if she returned them at all?

Sephiroth wringed his still soaking mane and, after putting his coat back and retrieving his sword, he went to where the Buster Sword, Angeal's sword, was. It had ended up nailed on the stone tiles. He pulled it out and held it, his eyes trailing along the metal while his mind recalled the raven haired SOLDIER and how much he cared about his beloved family heirloom. He even preferred to fight barehanded rather to use the gigantic blade. It had been a symbol of honor and pride; how ironic that it had been about to be used to shed innocent blood.

He bowed his head, one hand wielding the sword, with the other he took the guard and brought the blade close to his brow. Sephiroth closed his eyes, offering a silent plea for forgiveness.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

He disappeared without a noise before she could turn around; Aerith called his name, trying to find him in the enormous chamber, when she finally spotted him. Sephiroth had returned to the altar, maybe to gather his things. She ran back to that place, still calling for him, though he appeared to be ignoring her, too busy inspecting Cloud's sword.

Climbing again the pedestals was more difficult this time, haste and her lack of agility being her main problem at the moment. She slipped in the last one with a yelp, closing her eyes and preparing for the cold embrace of the water, something which never came. Instead, strong arms were lifting her to the altar, and she found herself clinging to a firm chest crossed with leather straps again.

"Why did you leave?" she asked.

When Sephiroth said nothing, Aerith pulled back a little, so she could see him, and she gasped: There were dark shadows under his eyes, which were reddish, as if he had been sleep-deprived for a long time.

"What happened?" she asked, starting to feel alarmed.

Sephiroth slowly extricated himself from her embrace, but he still held her hands.

"The pendant worked," he said at last. "But there are some things that I wish I'd never had remembered."

The smile in her lips froze.

"I don't understand."

He sighed deeply, looking at her hands instead of her face.

"You were right, Jenova can trick the mind and change all the memories she wants. I forgot what really happened five years ago inside that reactor. What Cloud told you was only a part of the truth. He did battle me and he did defeat me, but he was not the only one…"

Sephiroth let those words trail off and looked at her face. Aerith felt a cold sense of foreboding in her stomach.

"Zack was there too," he continued with a hoarse voice. "I killed him."

"What?" she felt her blood running cold.

"When I lost my mind, Zack had no other option than to battle me, and he lost. The one who defeated me was Cloud, yes, but he was a raw soldier by then. I thought I had killed both of them five years ago, but…"

A sigh escaped her lips. Numbness overcame her. Still, there was something wrong in what Sephiroth said.

"That can't be," she said softly.

"I did it!" he repeated firmly. "I…"

"Zack died one year ago, not five," she interrupted, suddenly very calm. "Don't you remember what I told you?"

The swordsman gaped at her.

"He was happy when he died," she continued. "He said he saved a friend, not that he had been killed by one."

"Are you sure?"

"That isn't something easy to forget."

Aerith smiled when Sephiroth closed his eyes and let go a sigh of relief after some moments.

"That's why you didn't want to talk to me, right?" the girl asked.

He nodded in silence. She embraced him again, this time not so tight.

"I missed you," she repeated.

Sephiroth chuckled in her hair.

"How much time has passed?" he asked, for he had lost the track of time since he fainted at the Temple.

"Three days."

Only three days, and it had been like a lifetime to him. It felt strange that she had come willingly into his embrace. He had thought that she was kind to him because she was frightened to death, and because she needed to gain his confidence in order to fulfill her mission.

"You know?" she beamed, softly pushing him away. "We were at Cosmo Canyon and there were a lot of books about the Cetra. I discovered many things about you and me."

"Me? But I'm not a Cetra."

Aerith smiled enigmatically, searching for something inside the pockets of her garments.

"There was someone very wise there," she said when she took out a worn-out notebook. "He told me about your pendant and what it means. This is where everything is told."

Sephiroth shook his head.

"I'd prefer to hear it from you."

The girl shrugged and put the notebook away, then she took a deep breath before revealing what she considered the best news she could have delivered to him.

"That pendant can only be created by an ancient spell. Only a member of one tribe of the Cetra could do that, and only a true Cetra, whichever tribe might he be from, could be able to wear it properly."

He frowned.

"Ania was a Cetra," she continued. "The pendant worked with me because I am a Cetra too and, since it works for you…"

His eyes went wide with surprise. Then he looked down to the pendant and grabbed it.

"Then," he faltered, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Then does that mean…?"

"That we are the same, as you said, exactly the same," she finished for him.

"It makes no difference," he said with a bitter scowl, all of a sudden. "Not after all we learnt about me at the Temple. Cetra or not, I am a monster. They tainted me before I was born."

"That's not true," she whimpered.

"It is," he affirmed, silencing her with his stare. "Whatever it is what you feel, either it is simple concern or another thing, I am an abomination, like Jenova, and we must disappear."

She backed away from him, tears forming in her green eyes.

"You stubborn fool!" she shouted. "Hasn't Ania taught you anything? She loved you like a son, and you loved her like a mother! A monster can't love or be loved! And I…"

She halted, breathing frantically, her cheeks flushed in anger and embarrassment, before the last words escaped her lips. She couldn't stand that hurt look in his eyes, or the sadness in his face; she turned around and, covering her face with her hands, the girl sobbed despairingly.

He enveloped her again in his embrace. She felt his still wet hair softly stroking her cheek while his deep voice purred in her ear.

"I don't want you to be in danger," he said. "That's why I let you go. I thought that you would be safe with your friends, but I was wrong. I cannot think of what might have happened if I wasn't following you, or if I had been a second too late."

"But you aren't a monster," she protested weakly. "A monster can't think about others."

"I wish you were right," he said, closing his eyes.

He was expecting her to keep on arguing, but she turned instead in his embrace and kissed his lips. His eyes flew open in shock, to be slowly closed again while he returned the kiss. After some moments she tried to back away but he pressed his mouth into hers, still holding her body in his arms, and deepened the kiss. He felt her shiver and moan faintly, making him growl with pleasure at her reactions. His heart seemed to want to go off his chest as he held her closer. When they parted their lips, she smiled shyly, her lips red and her cheeks blushing.

"Do you think that I would kiss a monster?" she teased.

He smiled back, despite himself. She believed in him; of all the people on the Planet she was the one to share with him the same heritage and a similar past. Life wasn't always as bad as it seemed.

Sephiroth was about to answer when, all of a sudden, he stood upright, for something caught his attention. He swiftly pulled her behind him.

"Who's there?" he shouted in a commanding voice. "Show yourself!"

Aerith peered from behind the swordsman. Everything was silent for a moment, but then she caught a glimpse of crimson behind a column, and then a metal clanking resounded in the chamber as Vincent revealed himself. The gunman walked all the way to the altar without uttering a word, and jumped with ease the pedestals, until he stood in front of them.

"Vincent!" the girl yelled, blushing more deeply.

"Why were you spying on us?" Sephiroth demanded. At that moment, Aerith could hear the General of SOLDIER speaking. She imagined that he could make everyone under his command cower in fear. However, Vincent answered without flinching.

"My apologies. My intention was not to spy on you," the gunman said. Sephiroth noticed for the first time that his eyes were of a deep crimson color. "You must understand that Aerith's trust on you is not shared by the others. I had to promise them that I would ensure that she was safe or they wouldn't go away without her. Some of them still believe that your deeds could be a trick."

"I can't believe it," Aerith snorted, stepping aside from behind Sephiroth.

"And what about you?" Sephiroth said suspiciously.

"I'm no one to judge anyone."

"Then I suggest you to go. You have seen and heard enough to know that I mean no harm to her."

"First I wish to ask you something," said Vincent. "The others might not be prepared to hear it yet. What happened to Cloud?"

"He was possessed by Jenova," Sephiroth answered. "Somehow he became infected with her cells, and that's the way she can control his mind."

"I see…"

"Though I have the same problem, I'm protected now, but Cloud is exposed," the swordsman explained.

"There's nothing that we can do now about it," Vincent stated. "Tifa and the others are keeping an eye on him right now. We will see once he wakes up."

"But what will happen to him?" Aerith asked desperately.

"It depends on the procedure they followed when infecting him," Vincent explained, earning a curious look from Sephiroth. "If they did it correctly, Jenova will attempt to control him when she has the chance. If they didn't follow the correct method, his mind will be relatively safe, but his body will deteriorate as he makes use of the special abilities granted by her DNA information."

"That explains everything," Sephiroth muttered before turning around and striding to the Buster Sword and picking it up again. "Then that was what happened."

"Does that mean that Cloud is going to die?" the girl asked anxiously.

Vincent looked at her.

"It is clear that, though he had been displaying unusual force and abilities, he hasn't aged, so it is possible that he went under the correct procedure."

"How come that you know so much about it?" Sephiroth asked, returning at Aerith's side with the Buster Sword in his hand.

"I came across with an unusual source of information."

"The library at Cosmo Canyon?" Aerith asked.

"No. Though that place is full of Cetran lore."

Aerith just remembered something.

"Sephiroth," she said. "Vincent told me that Hojo experimented on him too."

"What a surprise," he said sarcastically, angry at Vincent's lack of direct answers. "He would experiment on the entire population if given the chance."

"You don't understand it!" she never noticed the unnerved glance she gained from Vincent. He was about to protest when Aerith blurted everything out. "Vincent was the man you saw in your visions."

The gunman sighed: so much for discretion and secrets.

"Really?"

"He described everything you told me, the experiments, how Hojo buried him alive…"

"Aerith," Vincent interrupted. "Stop it, please."

"Why?" Sephiroth asked. "Why it is that you could invade my mind?"

Vincent looked at him for the first time. His crimson eyes were expressionless. Or maybe he was also losing his easiness to read other's intentions.

"I had no idea that this could happen," the other said. "I apologize for that, but this is not the time, nor the place to talk of such things."

"Is there no way to cure Cloud?" Aerith interrupted, realizing that she had stepped on the wrong terrain when she sensed an argument between the men.

"The only thing that seemed to cure Sephiroth was the pendant," Vincent let fall.

The girl looked at the swordsman in silence. Sephiroth wasn't gazing at her. He seemed not to have listened at all. Maybe he was still resentful about what happened five years ago but, if it was so, why did he help Cloud in the first place?

She placed a hand in his arm.

"Sephiroth…" she said quietly.

"I know," he replied. "But, do you think they would accept my aid?"

"Are you willing to help us?" asked Vincent.

"Right now my main objective is to stop Jenova at all costs," Sephiroth answered, looking at the crimson eyed man. "I have reasons to believe that there are more like me or Cloud for Jenova to control, and one of them was responsible of the Black Materia's disappearance. I must stop him before he reaches the Northern Crater, where she dwells. I let many sins to be committed, sins that I now carry over my soul. I'll do whatever I must to atone for them, even if that means to battle alone against her."

Vincent was silent for a long moment. Aerith thought she could see a faint flicker of emotion in his eyes, but it was gone as soon as it came.

"Very well," he said at last. "I shall talk to them."

He turned then to leave when Sephiroth called for him.

"Wait! Take this with you," said the swordsman, handling the Buster Sword to Vincent. "He will need it soon."

The black haired man took the blade without further comment; he swung it over his shoulder and left the room.

"Are you serious?" said Aerith once they were alone once more.

"Serious about what?" he said innocently.

"Battling Jenova! You will die!"

"I have protection against her attacks now."

She shook her head.

"That's not enough. Remember the Lady in White at the Temple? She was wearing the same pendant, and she died when fighting Jenova."

"Jenova was at the peak of her power then," Sephiroth told her calmly. "Though still powerful, she's much weakened now in comparison to those days."

Aerith looked him in the eye. He had regained great part of his assurance and, though less cold, he resembled more the Sephiroth she had known weeks ago.

"You are the most stubborn person I've ever met," she scolded him.

Sephiroth snorted, as if it wasn't the first time he heard those words, but he didn't reply.

"Speaking of that," he said, changing the matter. "What were you doing here?"

"Don't you remember the murals? This is the place where my tribe prayed for Holy. Bugenhagen told me that I only needed to do the same."

"You? Alone?" he asked in amazement.

She nodded happily.

"My mother's Materia was in fact the White Materia. My powers aren't as strong as they should be, luckily the Planet was willing but," her face darkened, "there was a barrier blocking it."

"That must be Jenova," he concluded. "She's still floating in the Lifestream and she must be complete by now. So, you were carrying the White Materia all the time?"

She nodded.

"Some Cetra I must be!" he sighed. "I had it under my nose all this time and I couldn't sense it!"

Aerith giggled, despite herself, but that didn't seem to bother him. Still, the girl couldn't help to wonder one thing, and she had to ask it.

"You don't call her _Mother_ now," she said timidly.

"She's not my real mother," he said matter-of-factly. "She cannot procreate, and I even doubt that she has any gender. Jenova is only a virus, but a virus to both body and soul; she takes your deepest desire and deludes you in the belief that she can make it come true. I admit it that mine was a childish wish. When Ania first found me, she gave me the blue stone she wore around her neck. It was her husband's pendant, and he was the one who looked after me when I was little. They were the only parents I've ever known and, though I didn't remember them, the pain of losing Ania was carved in my soul, and Jenova could see that," he shrugged. "Maybe they only took an anonymous ovule from a bank, or maybe Hojo killed my real mother, like he did with yours. I'll never know."

"I'm sorry…"

"That happened thirty years ago. It infuriates me, but blinding rage won't bring the dead back, and it wouldn't allow me to think about all the ways I could possibly punish Hojo for all the things he's doing."

Aerith wanted to stop him. As much as she hated Hojo, she couldn't stand hearing the details of his possible punishments.

"We are very alike. You were right, after all," she said casually, giving her back to him and striding absent-mindedly along the altar, her hands innocently behind her back. "You know? I'm quite happy that I'm not the only one. When I was little, my mother used to tell me that we were the only ones remaining."

She turned around and jumped back in surprise. Without her noticing it, he was at arm's reach.

"Sorry," he chuckled. "Even with all the leather I'm usually quite silent."

"We should go outside," she said. "I'm sure the others are waiting."

Aerith turned around to leap the pedestals but, before she could give a step, she gave a little squeal when she was lifted from the ground and she found herself nested securely in his arms as she felt his chest rumble with his deep chuckle. He covered the distance between the altar and the shore in one leap before letting her go. Aerith stumbled away a little dazed. She would never get used to his way of leaping around like gravity was nothing to him.

He took her hand to steady her and tried to keep a straight face. The girl smiled sheepishly and led him to the surface, never letting go of his hand.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

**End of Chapter 31.**

Well, in the end there was a bit of blood spilled over the altar, right?


	32. 32 Love and Death in the Battlefield

**Disclaimer:** Again, I don't own any character of Final Fantasy, any of them, much to my dismay (I wish I could own pre-psycho Sephiroth all to me, but it cannot be).

This fanfict has been inspired by the song of Yann Tiersen, "Comptine d'un Autre Étè".

Many thanks to everyone for their encouragement, corrections and ideas.

Enjoy!

**AN: **Sorry about the rating thing. Now you'll able to read this only if you are older than 16, due to certain scenes. Is not like I'm going to write an erotic tale from now on, but there's mention of adult themes. Sorry, kids!

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

**CHAPTER ****32.**

_**Farenheit 451 - ATB**_

XXXXXX-X-XXXXXX

It was getting dark when they came out.

Aerith rubbed her arms; the air was even colder now. Sephiroth threw an arm around her shoulders and kept her close to him. Leather wasn't as warm as a normal coat, but it was more than nothing.

They crossed the city, their feet making eerie echoing through the deserted streets. At night the place seemed even more haunted than during the day, for the seashell buildings caught the starlight and seemed to glow with a pale luminescence. Smoke came out from two houses, marking the place where the group had chosen to spend the night. They were near the open door of one of the dwellings; as the pair approached, they lifted their glances and Sephiroth could see them more clearly. He wondered how such a mingled group could coexist: apart from the mysterious Vincent and the rough looking Cid, there was a red beast from Cosmo Canyon, from those species capable of human speech, if his fauna knowledge didn't fail him; a girl with Wutaian features, who should be still in her teens, her face seeming vaguely familiar and associated with an unpleasant experience involving an attempt of theft. He couldn't see Tifa or the dark skinned man, who should be inside, tending to Cloud. Yet he had the nagging feeling that someone was missing.

The group said nothing when they came close. It was Vincent who spoke first:

"Cloud is inside," he said, motioning them to enter.

Despite what they expected, the buildings didn't seem as neglected at one would have expected. Though a thick layer of dust covered them, the pieces of furniture were still more or less intact; they looked like the houses had been abandoned for months, instead of thousands of years.

A fire was lit in the central fireplace, flooding the house with a warm light. Cloud was in one of the beds with his head bandaged; he was still unconscious, mumbling and wringing as in fever. As he expected, Tifa and the dark skinned man were with him. Sehiroth noticed that the man had a machine gun instead of his right hand. As soon as the girl finished her work, she stepped aside.

"He's having a lot of nightmares," she said with a trembling voice.

Aerith went to calm her. Sephiroth approached Cloud; he could feel how Jenova tried to take a hold on the younger man's consciousness and Cloud was fighting it back.

The silver haired man looked at the door, now crowded.

"I'd suggest you to wait outside," he told them. "Cloud will be disoriented when he wakes up and he will need silence. Tifa, Aerith, you can stay."

"Barret," said Tifa to the dark skinned man. "It's all right."

Barret was about to protest, but seemed to think it twice and followed the others, closing the door behind him.

Sephiroth perched on the bed and took off his pendant, approaching it to Cloud's forehead.

"What is he doing?" Tifa whispered.

"The pendant worked," Aerith told her in a quiet voice. "It's a protection against Jenova."

The fighter girl was about to ask something more when the blue stone glowed intensely, pulsing like a heart. Cloud calmed down, to Tifa's relief, but Aerith noticed Sephiroth's frown. He didn't say anything, though.

Tifa hasted to Cloud's side when the young man groaned again. Sephiroth backed away to where Aerith was.

"He's waking up."

The blond warrior slowly cracked his eyes and, as recognition hit him, they flew open.

"Tifa! Where…?"

"Cloud," said Aerith, stepping forward. "I'm here. I'm safe."

Cloud looked at her wide eyed.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice full of remorse.

"It's ok," Aerith smiled. "You were being controlled by Jenova."

It was at that instant when Cloud locked his eyes on Sephiroth's. For a moment a deep hatred darkened his cerulean pupils, but then he seemed to remember that it had been Masamune that protected the girl.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded, his resentment still fresh.

"I freed you from Jenova's influence, if only for a while," Sephiroth answered calmly.

"The story I told you about the stone was true," said Aerith. "Jenova is the real enemy. She did this same thing two thousand years ago. We have to stop her."

Cloud looked at her for a long moment, and then lowered his eyes, shaking his head.

"Please, get out," Cloud murmured, his bandaged head hung. "Tifa and Aerith, please leave."

The girls exchanged a knowing look. Tifa squeezed his hand briefly before leaving the house with Aerith.

"This… this is what happened five years ago?" Cloud asked in a deadpan tone, once they were alone.

"It is," the older man replied.

There was no need for explanations; Cloud already knew how it was to be controlled by Jenova: the unpleasant feeling of someone else's consciousness lurking inside one's mind, having to witness what Jenova did with one's body like in a nightmare, the remorse and self-loathing of the aftermath…

Cloud still had his head hung, his elbows rested upon his bent knees, his gaze focused somewhere between his bare feet. He was the living image of despair, much like Sephiroth had been days before, when he was confronted with his personal truth.

"I felt it some time ago," the boy said after a long silence. Though a murmur, his voice was edged with anger. "That there was something inside me. I thought I could control it, but now," he looked at his hands. "I fear I might snap any time."

"Nothing serious has happened so far," Sephiroth said. "Aerith is safe and you are protected from Jenova's influence."

"But what if I snap?" Cloud looked up at him. His blue eyes were filled with despair and confusion. "I… spent so many years hating you for what you did, and now I almost repeated it!"

"Almost," Sephiroth repeated. "Aside from the fact that I had to stop you, your mind was already rejecting Jenova, hence your nightmares. I could never do such thing alone, for her influence in me is far deeper and stronger."

"I don't know who I am anymore," Cloud sighed, lowering his head again.

Sephiroth frowned. From what he knew, the lack of self identity only lasted until the subject was released from Jenova's influence.

"Cloud, how did you defeat me in Nibelheim?"

"Fighting, I suppose," the other shrugged, looking up again. "I can't remember that part. It's because of Jenova, right?"

"Yes," Sephiroth lied. "She takes your memories and blocks those she doesn't want, replacing them with new ones, or just leaving that blank space in your mind."

He chose a pious lie. Cloud was telling the truth, from what Sephiroth could see. He was mentally unstable enough to cause him more distress, for that could break him beyond any hope of recovery. Whatever happened with Zack had to wait.

"I see," Cloud muttered, staring this time at the fireplace. "We were here for Aerith. She had the mission to pray for Holy to protect the Planet, but we also found out that the one who stole the Black Materia was here too."

"That was another one contaminated with Jenova's cells. There are more of them, but their souls are weaker, just empty puppets in her hands. After I left the Temple of the Ancients I intended to follow you, since I was worried for Aerith, but I lost your track and I began to track down the thief instead. That's how I found Aerith."

"You seem to care a lot for her," the younger man commented absently.

"She saved me."

"She seems to have a lot of faith in you," Cloud's voice carried a faint edge of jealousy.

"Yes," Sephiroth said, his features softening with a smile he didn't bother to contain. "Maybe far more than I deserve. She's a virtuous woman."

The silver haired man noticed how Cloud clenched his fists for a moment. He knew he had hit a nerve, and felt strangely smug about it. He didn't push it further, however.

"She told me already that she had come here to pray for Holy," he said. "Also, that she noticed that there was something blocking the spell. I fear it might be Jenova."

"What?" Cloud looked at him in shock.

"Jenova dwells inside the Northern Crater. That crater goes far deeper than people think, almost reaching the Planet's core. It wouldn't surprise me that she would be preventing the spell to reach its destiny."

"Then we have to hurry up!" the blond exclaimed, leaping from the bed but losing his balance due to weakness. Sephiroth caught him in time.

"The blow you got in your head could have killed a normal man," he explained as he helped the other back to bed. "You should be grateful of being awake so soon."

"Did you hit me?" asked Cloud, holding his bandaged head with both hands, fighting against a strong wave of nausea.

"No, I only swept you and you broke the stone railing with your head," he snorted. "Hadn't been Aerith's life in peril, it would have been quite comical."

Cloud glared daggers at him. Sephiroth could form an idea of the exact epithet the blond was thinking about. Not that he cared.

"So, next stop is the Northern Crater, isn't it?" Cloud said after some moments, when he could overcome the nausea.

Sephiroth frowned questioningly at him.

"Jenova made this mess, right? I wanna make her pay for everything."

The silver haired man held his gaze. Having Cloud by his side would save many troubles. Though Cloud wasn't as strong as himself, he could still cause many problems if the protection wore out. Plus, there were still many things he wished to know, and he was sure that Cloud was the key.

He nodded.

"But I still don't trust you," Cloud grumbled.

"Suit yourself," he chuckled mockingly. "It is you who decided to follow me. Better rest this night. The hunt will begin tomorrow."

Sephiroth turned around and headed for the door.

"What 'bout the others?" Cloud called for him. "What 'bout Aerith?"

"They are _your_ group," he replied without turning back. "They seem to care for your well-being. Either you promised them a good reward or they are strangely loyal. As for Aerith, I'll convince her to return to the archaeological camp. The Sleeping Forest is a safe place for her to travel."

Before Cloud could add something more, Sephiroth opened the door, but he had to step back as quick as possible to prevent the dark, short haired girl from falling on top of him. Said girl landed face first on the floor instead. A gruff laugh could be heard outside.

"Told ya it wasn't a good idea," it was Cid, who was sat near the door, smoking calmly.

The rest had jumped from where they were sat or leaned against to look worriedly at the door.

"Shut up, damn it!" yelled the girl, but soon she remembered who she was in front of and got to her feet as quickly as she could to get out of his way.

"How is the boy?" Vincent stepped forward, ignoring the other two.

"Dazzled," Sephiroth answered, striding out of the house. "He has something to say to all of you."

Unconsciously, his eyes scanned the area for Aerith. He didn't find her, something that made him frown, though he noticed that there was one more house alight. Tifa approached him timidly.

"Aerith is there," she said, pointing to said house. "She said she would be waiting for you there."

He gave a court nod to her and walked to the house. But just then he saw something through the corner of his eye. He dashed to it, surprising everyone, and grabbed Caith Sith by his red cape, holding him in the air.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Sephiroth roared. "How did you let him in?" he turned to Tifa.

"Hey!" Caith squeaked. "They know I'm a spy, they discovered me already!"

"Do you know him?" Tifa asked. The rest of the crew was gathered at the door, alarmed by the ruckus.

"Shinra used him to spy on us back at the Company. Several times I caught him rummaging among my private possessions," said Sephiroth, glaring at the toy, but then his face contorted in a cruel smile. "It was, of course, before I killed the old Shinra."

"Please, don't tell 'em who I am!" Caith pleaded. "I have a family to protect!"

"Why do you keep him with you?" Sephiroth asked Tifa, ignoring the toy.

"The basta' has my daughter and Aerith's momma!" Barret answered.

"Plus," Tifa added. "He said he had a family to protect. We felt related to that."

Though he knew he was being ignored, Caith still flailed his little arms in an attempt to balance himself and to gather attention.

"Sephiroth! You know I would never harm a lady!"

The silver haired man snorted without smiling, releasing his grip on the red cape and dropping the toy, which bounced on the ground. Without another word, Sephiroth spun and strode to the house Tifa had shown him earlier.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

The fireplace was alight thanks to her Fire Materia, a goodbye present from Bugenhagen. Aerith had been preparing the house to spend the night as comfortably as possible.

She stood to examine the two beds she had prepared. Strangely enough, the houses seemed like they had been abandoned months ago, instead of thousands of years. The beds were still usable, there were even blankets and, though the pillows seemed a bit hard, they were an unexpected luxury. It was enough to be satisfied, though now she missed a civilized place, no matter how much she had liked the city.

A knock at the door interrupted her musing. She opened it, finding Sephiroth at the door way.

"Why did you knock?" she asked as she let him enter.

"Tifa told me you were here," he explained, looking around the room. "It seemed rude to just barge in."

Aerith chuckled, drawing his attention at last.

"Vincent told us that he was going to keep watch this night, since he doesn't need to sleep," she explained as she strode around the room, her hands behind her back. Sephiroth noticed for the first time since he entered the house that she had discarded the coat and was clad again in her pink dress and red bolero. "And since you _do_ need to sleep…"

She let the words trail off. Sephiroth perceived the way her voice was edged with nervousness. She surely felt restless at the thought of sharing the same room with him. He couldn't blame her after all that had happened and he became aware of something: that during a great part of his life he had just felt contempt towards everyone. When he had been with Angeal and Genesis, who truly appreciated him as a friend, he lacked the needed empathy to return those feelings. Now he had the empathy and someone who loved him, but he didn't know how to react, though finding out that she was as nervous as him was a relief.

Sephiroth smiled tiredly at her. He went silently to a table where he left Masamune and Ania's pendant. Though it didn't glow, Ania's spirit was alive inside the stone, and it was sensitive to what was happening to the wearer. Sephiroth felt that he needed some privacy, and he knew that now there was no risk on taking off his protection. In order to possess Cloud, Jenova had to use a great deal of energy, since her spirit had to "travel" some distance from where she was in order to fulfill her wishes. Now Jenova needed to rest and gather energy, and that gave them enough time to relax, if only a little.

"I've been speaking with Cloud," he said when he finished and went to sit on one of the beds.

"How is he?"

Aerith came to sit by his side. She gave a surprised squeal when Sephiroth stretched his arm and dragged her to his lap.

"He's fine," he said, kissing her cheek. "And there's something I have to tell you."

He recounted his previous conversation with Cloud, telling her that he didn't ask about Zack for fear of breaking him more. He also told her about their intention of continuing the travel just he and Cloud.

"No way!" she yelled when he told her to return to the archaeological camp.

"Aerith…" he trailed off with a stern voice.

She intended to stand up, but his arms were firmly encircling her waist. Instead, the girl crossed her arms defiantly and looked away with a huff.

"It's very dangerous!" he didn't intend to raise his voice, but her stubbornness got the best of him.

"I don't care," Aerith quietly replied.

He was taken aback by her calm tone, and found nothing to say. He noticed how the muscles on her back relaxed after her outburst, as her arms unfolded and her hands rested on her lap.

"I don't care if it's dangerous," she repeated, still looking away.

"And I don't want you to be in peril."

"But I am," she faced him. "We are all in peril until this ends. I'm tired of being left behind."

A small, delicate hand cupped his cheek.

"Don't make me wait without knowing what happened," Aerith pleaded, closing her eyes and resting her forehead against his. Then her arms sneaked around his neck, embracing him. "I couldn't go through that again."

Sephiroth tightened his hold on her waist, burying his face in the hollow of her neck. He didn't want her to suffer, but neither did he want her to die.

"And," she pushed lightly to face him. "I'm good with magic. You will need me."

He gazed back at her, feeling remorse nagging at him.

"I lied to you," he said. "I might never return from this battle, whether I'm victorious or not."

Sighing, Aerith caressed again his cheek, smiling softly.

"Then all the more reason for me to accompany you," she said. "I know that, sooner or later, we'll have to return to the Lifestream. Maybe we will be fortunate enough to choose when to go. Besides, if you can't defeat her, we will all die, anyway."

Sephiroth nodded in silence, for she had a point.

"Besides," she looked down, blushing deeply as her hand trailed from his cheek to stroke his bare chest. "There's something I wish to know before that day comes."

Delicately, he lifted her chin with his fingers. Her green eyes were filled with need and fear, as her trembling body revealed to him. He kissed her softly at first, but he deepened it then while he pulled off her bolero, all his rational thoughts utterly forgotten.

He didn't remember how or when she let her hair down, or when they got rid of their boots. He remembered, though, his hands slowly taking off her clothes and guiding her small, trembling hands to do the same with his own. He wanted to etch in his memory the softness and warmth of her body, her voice calling his name and how she shivered under his touch. He wanted to memorize each path, each little curve of her body, every little sound she made under his lips, the salty taste of her silken skin.

She struggled at first, not against him but against her own body. She had never known such need before, and there had been a time when she decided to close up her heart, for it was easier not to feel, not to love again. But this man, whom she had feared at first, had found her, turning her world upside down, invading her most intimate dreams, and now those dreams she so stubbornly denied because she was afraid of what they held became reality. His callous hands, so delicate despite their hardness, made her tremble; his soft and warm lips awakened every inch of her skin. She tried to return his tenderness, despite feeling so weak under his touch, and for every caress she gained a deep growl from him and that he came back with renewed passion and gentleness. Trapped in his strong arms, deliciously crushed under his powerful body, a prison she freely chose, she had no other alternative than to yield completely and fully to him.

The moment they joined came as slowly and delicately as Sephiroth could manage. He knew he had to harm her at some point and he tried to stop when he saw her shedding tears of pain, but she didn't allow him, encouraging him instead to go on further with her kisses. It came a moment when the entire world disappeared: only the two of them existed, and the fire they needed so desperately to quench.

Sephiroth tried to make those moments last. Aerith's hair was a wild mess, the golden-brown waves spread over the pillow and the mattress, mingling with his own silver mane. The warmth firelight reflected in her innocent, loving green eyes, and sculpted pleasantly her features, from her bare shoulders and slender neck to her flushed cheeks and swollen, red lips. He felt her hands caressing his chest and shoulders at first and, when both succumbed to the unavoidable frenzy, Aerith tangled her fingers into his mane, caressing his scalp and sending shivers down his spine.

As they found the final release, he silenced her scream with a deep kiss, trying to make the moment last forever. They finally collapsed together, trembling and satisfied. Sephiroth never felt so drained before, and even getting up to take the blanket over them was exhausting but, as he remembered, he had never loved a woman before; he had sex, yes, but never love. And he found out that he had never felt as complete as in that moment, with Aerith cuddled in his arms, sleeping against his chest. Kissing her hair, he too surrendered to weariness.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

**End of Chapter 32.**

Why "Farenheit 451"? Just listen to the song. It's quite sensual.


	33. 33 Welcome Back

**Disclaimer:** Again, I don't own any character of Final Fantasy, any of them, much to my dismay (I wish I could own pre-psycho Sephiroth all to me, but it cannot be).

This fanfict has been inspired by the song of Yann Tiersen, "Comptine d'un Autre Étè".

Many thanks to everyone for their encouragement, corrections and ideas.

Enjoy!

**AN:** Concerning the theme song for this chapter, "Hurt" the original was written by "Nine Inch Nails", but I personally prefer Johnny Cash's cover; his elderly voice told better the story of repent and wish of change, maybe because he felt that it summarized his own life. Check out the two versions and stick with the one that pleases you most.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

**CHAPTER ****33.**

_What I have become__?_

_My sweetest friend._

_Everyone I know_

_G__oes away in the end._

_**Hurt – Nine Inch Nails**_

XXXXXX-X-XXXXXX

He couldn't tell how much time he had spent in the darkness, for it felt like a timeless place. Still, the nightmares told him that it had been at some point after the Nibelheim Incident. And nightmares had to be, for there was no other explanation for the madness displayed before his eyes. Tseng saw himself performing horrible acts, most of them involving people who were labeled as enemies of Shinra. During his life as a Turk he understood that his job was a shady one, but he had always tried to make it as clean and elegant as possible, only resorting to drastic measures as a last alternative, but he felt nauseated and horrified facing what he saw: pointless torture, unnecessary cruelty on defenseless enemies…

He saw his subordinates, Reno and Rude. The dark skinned man had always been his closest friend, his confidant, and Reno had been like a younger brother, sharing the two of them the same past down in the slums. But not even they were spared and Tseng sent them on suicidal missions, not caring about what could happen to them. As a result of the Fall of Sector Seven, Reno was almost killed, and they had to find another member: Elena, short and petite and with the face of a doll, but deadly in combat.

Tseng cringed, remembering how he had slapped Aerith, his dear Aerith, and then the whole plate of Sector Seven coming down, while he was watching it in amusement from a helicopter. Then he saw in despair how he had left Aerith at the mercy of Hojo. He screamed in desperation while he saw her terrified eyes turning to him, pleading for help, but his shouts got lost in the darkness. And when he saw himself shooting her for the first time after her escape, albeit by accident, he thought he would die.

But Aerith was alive and he kept on pursuing her and Sephiroth, who now was protecting the girl. He had caught them eventually and he shot her for a second time. In his nightmares, he kneeled, crying, begging whoever it was who toyed with his mind to stop it because he couldn't take it anymore, and he wondered if he had died and was inside any kind of Hell in the Lifestream.

He watched Aerith, now on the floor, unmoving, and Sephiroth standing by her side, Masamune already drawn, the metallic hum resonating within the walls of the chamber. And this nightmare, despite the madness displayed before his eyes, ended up the only logical way it could end, with Sephiroth parrying the bullets Tseng shot and lunging forward, like an avenging angel to claim his life.

Tseng didn't feel anything at first, but his body was paralyzed, his senses numb. He collapsed, watching his blood soaking the stone floor and the darkness became complete.

"Maybe that's how it ends," he thought while he floated in the dark ocean of calmness, relieved for the first time.

Perhaps all had been a nightmare and when he woke up he would find himself in his apartment and he would go to work like every day. He would see Reno and Rude again. Not the blonde girl, Elena, for she was only part of his dreams. He would go watch over Aerith again and see her selling flowers in the street.

The quietness broke when he became aware of his body again, and it hurt from head to toes. At last he began to register sounds, though they were muffled and distant. With effort, he slightly opened his eyes, several circular, white lights above his head, blinding him. That must have been a hospital. Perhaps he had collapsed, or some mission went wrong. Yes, that must be the reason why he had those nightmares, and why he felt again that burning pain in his abdomen.

He noticed several human silhouettes above him, and then one hand reached for his face. He felt the border of a breathing mask pressed against his cheeks and nose, and he saw nothing more.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

He was yet again floating in the darkness. He wished they let him be in that sweet oblivion. But they wouldn't and he was dragged again to the real world.

The light he could perceive through his eyelids was softer than before, which was a relief, but his throat felt sore. Slowly, he opened his eyes and saw a white ceiling above him. He was, indeed, in a hospital. He groaned, grimacing as he tasted bitterness in his mouth.

"Tseng?" a feminine voice softly asked.

With difficulty, the Turk turned his head to where the sound came. There was a figure sat on one side of his bed, outlined against the light from the window at the back. He blinked, trying to adjust his vision, and his eyes flew open in shock.

The blond girl, Elena, was by his side. Either he was still dreaming or everything had been real.

"E-Elena?"

The girl smiled, relieved.

"Are you real?" he said in a hoarse voice.

Her smile faded, to be replaced by a worried expression.

"Yes, why do you ask?"

Tseng didn't answer. The man laid back on the pillow, closing his eyes in desperation.

"Then it's real," he groaned. "What have I done?"

His heart sank as he realized that the nightmare was real. It was true that he had done those things, and that he had killed Aerith.

"The girl is safe and sound," Elena said.

"What?" he looked at her.

"Aerith is alive and well," she repeated. "Sephiroth saved her."

"Gods…" he gasped, closing his eyes again and covering his face with a trembling hand.

Tseng was about to say something, but his voice was caught in his dry throat. He coughed and rasped, though he had to contain the spasms, for he felt the stitches in his abdomen tensing and his skin protesting as a result.

Elena stood up in silence and went to a nearby table, where a glass and a plastic water bottle sat. She poured the liquid and offered it to Tseng.

"The doctor said you shouldn't drink or eat until your stitches are removed," she said sternly as she perched on the bed. "Just moisten you lips, ok?"

He nodded in silence and only then she allowed him to drink while she held the glass.

"Thank you," he whispered.

She smiled faintly; then she got up again and returned the glass to the table. Just then he noticed that he was naked from the waist up, though his entire abdominal zone was bandaged, and someone had tied up his hair on a loose ponytail. Surely they had noticed his large tattoo covering his whole back, displaying the Serpent God Leviathan twisted over himself. It was the trademark of a Wutaian smugglers' group he had to infiltrate on and the tattooing was one of the initiation rites. He wasn't proud of it, despite Leviathan being the protector of his homeland, and refused to expose it. He even renounced to go to the beach on vacations, and if he had to go, he never, ever, got rid of his Turk suit.

"What happened to me?" he asked when she sat down again.

"We discovered some months ago that Hojo had been experimenting on you. Just after the Nibelheim Incident he began using your vitamin pills as a medium to administrate a synthesized chemical of his own to invert the way you behave towards people."

"_That bastard,"_ he thought, though he was too tired to even feel anger.

"I thought all the time it was a nightmare," he said.

"A nightmare?"

"Yes. It's difficult to explain," he hesitated. "I saw all I did, but it was as if I were stuck in another man's body. No matter how much I tried to regain control or stop myself, I couldn't. But tell me, how was I cured?"

Elena smirked.

"Reno forced Hojo to synthesize the antidote. He also discovered that the same chemical had been used on Mr. Rufus Shinra since he was a boy as well. It was something planned by the late President."

He laid back against the pillow. That explained many things about Rufus' ruthless personality.

"The bad thing," Elena carried on. "Is that we have to wait until the medical condition of the person is critical for the antidote to work."

"Critical?"

She nodded, biting her lip.

"Near death," she said quietly. "We knew you were pursuing Sephiroth and Aerith and that you might end up wounded at some point. We kept watching you to prevent that Sephiroth killed you. We arrived just in time, but we feared that it was too late. You have been drifting between life and death for four days. The wound wasn't healing, not even using Materia, so the doctors had to use traditional medicine and stitch you. The first day they had to reanimate you three times after the surgery and make another transfusion because you kept loosing blood, though the second day the Cure Materia at last worked on you. We were afraid that you couldn't make it."

Tseng threw her a puzzled gaze. Had they kept worrying? After all he put them through?

"It's too nice of you to be worried," he said. "After all I put you through."

She blushed faintly.

"Rude and Reno told me that you were quite the contrary," she explained, suddenly finding her hands on her lap quite interesting things to look at. "I saw how worried they were about you, and how angry they were with Hojo."

"Speaking of the devil… where's Hojo now?"

"He's back in the labs. He needed the equipment to synthesize the antidotes."

"I'd watch him very closely," Tseng said. "No one knows what's inside that sick mind of him. Where are the others?"

"Heidegger sent them to look after a shipment of weapons. Since Reno is in charge now, he ordered me to stay by your side until you felt better."

"This Reno…" he breathed, rolling his eyes.

"Is something wrong?" Elena asked naïvely.

"No, nothing," he corrected himself quickly. "You said it happened four days ago. Has something changed since then? What about our contact in AVALANCHE?"

"He stopped sending audio transmissions just after they passed Rocket Town. But he kept on informing us through e-mail about their situation."

Elena then summarized the information received by their contact, about AVALANCHE's encounter with Sephiroth and Aerith near the Temple of the Ancients, the separation of the pair, the travel to Cosmo Canyon and then to the Forgotten Capital, where they were reunited again, and the explanation of how Sephiroth had been under Jenova's control since Nibelheim, and how said control was now broken.

"The last report stated that they were spending the night at the Forgotten Capital," said Elena.

He remained silent the whole time, staring at the ceiling, processing all that Elena had told him. He remembered the cold wrath in Sephiroth's eyes before attacking him. He, like Tseng, thought that Aerith was dead; those were the eyes of someone to whom everything was lost, and only claimed for revenge. He was in love with the girl and from what he heard from Elena, the way Aerith defended him before AVALANCHE, it was clear that the girl had the same feelings about the silver haired man.

"I'm sorry," Elena whispered.

"Why?"

"Reno told me that Aerith was very special for you," she said timidly.

"I know her since she was a little child. She's like a little sister to me," he lied.

"Oh, speaking of that!" Elena exclaimed, getting up and taking out her cell. "Reno and Rude must have reached their destination by now. I have to inform them that you are ok."

She dialed the number and waited by the window. Tseng remembered the physical training sessions he put her through and their one-on-one combats. He wondered how she could be that strong with that petite frame, but then he remembered Cissnei, and that he was the only one capable to defeat her in a hand-to-hand combat.

"Reno?" Elena chirped, but then she scowled. "I'm not gonna call you that!"

"He's awake and the antidote worked!" she chirped again and she had to take the phone away from her ear.

"Looks like he's happy," she murmured to Tseng, who stifled a laugh because the stitches hurt. "I think he wants to talk to you."

Elena passed the cell to Tseng before telling him with signs that she was going to call for the doctor.

"Reno?"

"_Yo, Boss!"_ the other shouted out. _"We thought you were done for!"_

"Thank you for your concern," Tseng chuckled.

"_I only wanted to say that all is under control, boss, so doncha worry 'bout anythin'!__ Hey, Rude sends his regards."_

"Say thanks to him from me, but Reno," he interrupted the hyper redhead. "Why did you order Elena to stay with me?"

There was a brief silence at the other side. When Reno finally spoke his voice was serious.

"_Well, boss, it was that, or being __Heidegger's private bodyguard."_

"What?" Tseng exclaimed in shock.

"_You heard me well, boss. He __said that surely Sephiroth was going to pop outta nowhere to cut his throat and used that as an excuse to try to keep Elena by his side. You know what his real intentions were. So I had to keep our little princess outta his reach."_

Tseng cursed inwardly. Heidegger was renowned for his abuses of power. He was a sad man, indeed, another walking bunch of complexes. He was someone who needed to constantly reaffirm his superiority over others by means of brute force. It repulsed him to think about that man being interested on Elena, because he knew exactly what kind of man Heidegger was with women: brutal and forceful.

"_Besides," _continued the redhead in a cheerful voice. _"You can't complain, yo! You went through a hell but now you have a pretty nurse to watch over you."_

Tseng grunted. He could see Reno smirking at that remark.

"_C'mon, boss! This will serve both of you to know each other better."_

He was about to retort but at that moment the door opened as Elena entered with a doctor and a nurse behind her.

"Reno I have to leave you," he said. "The doctor has arrived and…"

"_Sure boss. Take care__, ok? Oh, and welcome back."_

Reno hung up before Tseng could say anything more. He sighed, returning the cell to Elena.

The doctor was an aged man with a round, wrinkled face. He was quite cheerful and friendly, showing his satisfaction at Tseng's recovery.

"Yours was quite the case," said the old man. "If it wasn't for the Full Cure Materia that your subordinate found in your clothes, you would be dead right now."

He then proceeded to check Tseng's vital signs and his wound, which took a while, for the nurse had to remove all the bandages. It was then when Tseng saw Masamune's work: the stitches ran from the middle of his abdomen to the right side of his body, going almost to his back. Apparently Sephiroth had tried to gut him slowly and painfully. Had it been a normal katana, it would have healed in a matter of hours, but Masamune was not a normal katana. Legend said that it was forged inside the very Lifestream.

After they left the Turks alone again, Tseng spoke to Elena.

"I need you to do something for me," he told her.

"What is it, boss?"

"Don't call me that, I'm not on duty,"

"Yes… Tseng," she said. She seemed a bit uncomfortable, as if she was expecting him to revert to his former self.

"I need you to take the keycard to my apartment and go to my bedroom. At the top one of my drawers there's a double bottom. Bring me the documents hidden there. And if you don't mind, please hand me my cell."

Elena nodded and hurried to the drawers where they had stored all his personal belongings. After fumbling a little she finally got out the keycard and the phone, which she gave to Tseng. Instead of immediately going out, she stopped by the door with a concerned look in her eyes.

"Are you sure you will be ok?" she asked.

"I will," he assured her. "Now go, please. Though it seems a petty thing it's very important that you bring me those documents."

She nodded and got out of the room, closing the door behind her.

Tseng opened his cell and read the hour: 11:27 in the morning. She should be back in the evening. The task he had set her to do was indeed important. He needed to make atonement for what he had done. He gave thanks that he never disposed of those documents, for they were the only evidence of what had happened so many years ago. He promised himself that he would reveal the truth, but always lacked the courage to do so. He had never been involved in that operation, but that didn't lift the weigh upon his heart.

He dialed Reeve Tuesti's number. He didn't have to wait for too long before the other answered.

"_Tseng?"_

"Yes, Reeve, it's me."

"_Tseng!"_ the other cried in joy._ "I'm so glad to hear you! I thought you were done for! And they told me you were again yourself."_

"Thanks, but tell me, just how many people know about my condition?"

"_Rude called me just after they found you. It was unofficial information, so no other people know about it. To the rest of the Company you are still… well, not the man you used to be."_

"I see. Reeve, I called to ask you about the cat and the mice," asked Tseng.

There was a pause at the other side.

"_Well__, Tseng. They discovered Caith, but they spared his life and allowed him to be with them. Not that it was an act of good will, because I told them I had the mother and the little girl as hostages."_

"What mother?"

"Elmyra."

"You did what?!"

"_I didn't do it! They are safe in a hideout, I tell you. __But I needed that excuse. I have my own mother to worry about. I don't want her to be killed."_

"I see," he sighed.

Tseng knew Reeve back from when he was still under Verdot's leadership, for his former boss and the head of Urban Development were old friends. Reeve never hesitated when he had to betray the Company to help the former Turk's leader. Reeve could be many things, but he was loyal to his friends.

"Elena informed me that Aerith and Sephiroth are with you now. How is she?"

"_There have bee__n changes since the last report,"_ Reeve said gravely._ "Strife has decided to accompany Sephiroth to the Northern Crater. The rest of the group, Caith included, has decided to follow Strife."_

"Even Aerith?"

"_She was the first one to sign in. She… seems to have a soft spot for Sephiroth__,"_ there was a long pause. Tseng could picture Reeve passing his hand through his hair, like each time he was nervous or uncomfortable. _"They spent last night together. I'm sorry, Tseng, I know what she was for you."_

Tseng sighed. During his life he had tried the hardest to not harbor those emotions towards Aerith, but to no avail. Aerith had always hated Shinra, not surprising after all she had been through. But she never let that hate reach him. Since he had joined the Turks she gazed at him with compassionate, pleading eyes, as if she hoped that he would repent from the path he had taken; Aerith never knew that Shinra had many entrances but few exits, and the most common of them was Death.

Tseng had always been aware that, being an assassin, he represented the Darkness in this world, while Aerith was the Light. He concluded that he didn't deserve to even come near such a pure being. For this, he tried to protect her, maybe to compensate for all his other deeds, and only thought about her well-being. That was the reason why he let Zack Fair be near Aerith, because he knew that the young SOLDIER was the only one able to protect her, though he still needed a little guidance.

At the tender age of seventeen, Zack was a famous ladies man inside (and outside) the Company, being extremely popular among the female staff (something which annoyed great part of the male staff to no end). Tseng didn't mind him from courting Aerith, since she seemed pleased enough with the young SOLDIER, but just in case, Tseng had a friendly chat with Zack about faithfulness in romantic relationships. It goes without saying that Zack complied obediently.

And now she had found Sephiroth, who seemed to have changed for the better. He felt brokenhearted upon hearing what Reeve had disclosed to him, but at least now Aerith had the strongest man in the world by her side, and that was a relief.

"Don't worry about it. I'm glad that she has someone to protect her now," he said, but he changed the subject as quickly as possible. "Are you going to stop at any village?"

"_I think we have to pass by Icicle Inn in about __four days, five at most."_

"Good, because there's something I have to deliver to Sephiroth."

"_Deliver? I don't think you have to apologize, they know exactly what happened to you."_

"It's not an 'I'm sorry' note. There was an incident many years ago involving someone Sephiroth knew. He never learned the truth, though it was an operation carried on by the Turks. I owe him that."

"_You mean, the r__eport you hide under your boxer briefs' drawer?"_

"Yes the-How do you know about it?" Tseng exclaimed.

"_You know how the late President was,"_ Reeve said apologetically. _"And don't think it's pleasant to know certain secrets. I still have nightmares after Caith's visit to Heidegger's home. Want me to give the envelope to you?"_

"No, thanks. I've sent Elena already."

There was a longer pause at the other side.

"_Tseng,"_ Reeve sniggered. _"You sent a _girl_ to search among your underwear? I never thought you were that bold with women!"_

Tseng's blood ran cold all of a sudden. Of course Elena was a woman, but he had forgotten that detail. His brain surely had yet to wake up that morning. He groaned, feeling his cheeks burning.

"_Don't worry, pal,"_ Reeve laughed, well aware of how Tseng took those matters. _"At least your choice of colors is tasteful. She will be impressed."_

"Surely she will," Tseng grunted, throwing his head back.

"_Well, think of it this way. It's not bad that she sees __your underwear, the bad thing is that she imagines you in those, and that will be only and entirely her responsibility, not yours."_

Saying that, he hung his phone, leaving Tseng with a shocked expression, his cheeks redder than ever and with Reeve's cackle still ringing in his ears.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

As Elena walked down the corridor to the apartments' wing, her memory went back to his companions. To her, the stories Reno and Rude had told her about their boss seemed biased. One tends to picture past events in a better light than they really were, so she had yet to see whether they were true or not to dissipate her doubts.

Elena passed the keycard through the slot of Tseng's door. The green light turned on and she could enter inside. What she saw then left her nailed at the entrance, just in front of the door which closed with a hiss.

The entire apartment completely lacked decoration. But it didn't seem as if it had been that way from the first day. There were shadows on the painting of the wall of the living room which suggested several pictures hung and then removed. She went to the bedroom, and it was the same: all the walls were bare, echoing every sound she made. She should have restricted to her mission, but her curiosity got the best of her. Every apartment had a spare room which served as a lumber room. In Tseng's home said room had a padlock locking it.

Elena took out her lock picking tools and began working on it. She wasn't as good as Reno, but she could still manage with traditional locks. The padlock gave a click and she removed it. She opened the door and switched on the light of the room.

All the things that had been removed from the walls and shelves were there. Many pictures and Wutaian-style ornaments were piled carelessly, as if they had lost their importance long ago, but their owner still couldn't get rid of them. There were many wall pictures of landscapes of Wutai, but there were also smaller ones; she picked up one of them; it showed a group of people, but she couldn't distinguish them due to the shattered glass. She removed the back of the frame to take a better look at it.

She read the back of the photo, where there was written: "My family". She turned it around and saw a picture of people in the Slums. There was a woman of no more than thirty, a little girl of no more than ten who was holding the hand of a handsome young man with layered, shoulder-length black hair and an unmistakable dot in his forehead. Tseng came from the Sector Six's Slums, according to what Reno had told her about him. She looked closely at the girl; she was very pretty, with huge green eyes, chestnut hair gathered in a thick braid and two bangs falling at the sides of her face. Though there was a significant difference in age, Elena could identify the Ancient girl in that child. If she was Aerith, the one who was like a little sister to him, then the older woman had to be her mother, for Tseng never had never known his true parents. Elena wasn't aware of the soft smile that spread on her face watching the scene. But it pained her that this picture had been thrown away this way. She put it in her jacket and kept on searching. There were more photos, in almost every one of them there was Tseng with other people, either in Midgar or outside it. She didn't care to order the few ones she could find, because they told her as a whole what she had doubted about her boss since she became a Turk.

After watching all the photos, the girl got away from the room and looked at her surroundings.

"_The Black Materia has been stolen by Jenova. __It's used to summon Meteor. That's what our contact has learnt."_

The words from Rude came to her head all of a sudden. Watching the empty walls, she had a sense of foreboding. Maybe many things were going to disappear forever.

Pursing her lips with resolve, she returned to the room and began to take all the photos off their frames. The large pictures were left untouched, though, since she had no way to transport them properly. After she finished, she had a stack of pictures in the inner pocket of her jacket. It bulged slightly and was a bit uncomfortable for her to move, but soon she would deliver them. Just then her phone buzzed stubbornly.

"Hello?"

"'_Laney!" _came Reno's voice through the receiver. _"Tseng told me he sent you on a mission."_

"Yeah," she answered as she strode to the bedroom. "He sent me to retrieve some documents from his apartment."

"_Documents? He never __carried work home."_

"I don't know. He told me they were hidden," Elena said, leaning on the drawers.

"_So, a hideout__, uh?"_

"That seems to be the case," she singsang, opening the top most. "He told me they were quit-"

She interrupted the phrase.

"_Elena? Are you ok?"_ said Reno, alarmed before the sudden silence at her side of the line.

"Eh, y-yes, yes, I'm ok," she blurted.

"_Have you opened the hideout?"_

"Uh, yes," she muttered nervously.

"_Is everything ok__?"_ Reno's voice began to sound apprehensive.

It was that moment when Elena realized that, as far as she could remember, this was going to be the most embarrassing task she had even been assigned: The underwear was neatly arrayed in the drawer, and black was a classy color to chose, but Elena's hands began to tremble without apparent reason while she held the phone. Even her voice trembled.

"It's… his underwear's drawer."

There was a brief silence, this time at Reno's side of the line. Then the redhead's burst of laughing made her take the receiver away from her ear for a second time that day. It took Reno a lot of time to be able to speak again between breath intakes.

"_C'mon, 'Laney!"_ he laughed._ "It's not that big of a deal! It's nothing you haven't seen already on any magazine. They are only pieces of cloth!"_

Elena put the cell on handsfree mode and left it on top of the drawers. She began to take the underwear piles off their place and put them on the bed, huffing in discomfort while Reno seemed to want to calm her down. They were soft to the touch and seemed quite comfortable. Out of curiosity, she unfolded one and saw that they were boxer briefs, the ones that stick to the skin but still provide mobility and comfort to the user.

"_Of course,"_ Reno kept on talking, but now his voice took an impish tone._ "The bad thing would be that you imagined Tseng clad only with one of those. He's quite a built man, you know, and I think he has Leviathan tattooed all along his..."_

"Will you shut up?!" she yelled at the phone, her cheeks of a bright scarlet. She even felt her ears burning.

From the phone came another guffaw.

"_So you thought about it already!"_ he exclaimed in triumph. Then he clicked his tongue, mocking a reprimand. "_'Laney, 'Laney, you naughty girl! Thinking that way about your boss."_

The girl could only growl, but before her mouth could form the first adjective of the long list her brain had already done, Reno merrily bid her farewell and hung up.

Puffing her cheeks in anger and embarrassment, she quickly folded the boxers again and made a tremendous effort to fill her mind with images of Heidegger, the sound of his horrible laugh, and the stench of liquor and expensive cigars that always accompanied him. Normally she would have cringed in disgust but now she needed it to keep her mind from thinking about other things far more distracting.

Damned Reno, for being so right about her imagination. Tseng was a handsome man; that she had to admit. At least that was what she thought after her first interview with him. She had seen him on training clothes, and she knew she could have fallen for him if he hadn't been… like he had been. But that was in the past, and now he was a new man. No, he was now the man he was supposed to be all along.

She opened the double bottom and found an unsealed envelope; she retrieved it, closed the hideout, put back the clothes without another second thought and closed the drawer with a deep sigh. Then she laughed. It had been the most stupid thing, to feel embarrassed because of some pieces of clothes. For crying out loud! She wasn't some sixteen-year-old recruit drooling over some spare panties of his secret childhood love from the country.

Nevertheless, Elena sat down on the bed and sighed. Most girls swooned over SOLDIERs, who tended to be just show offs and self-conceited brats. Elena preferred other kind of men, those who were calm and collected, who didn't need to brag around about how cool and strong they were, or about how many girls they had behind their tails. She wanted a man, not a boy.

She looked at her reflection on the full-height mirror on the corner of the bedroom. She still had her cheeks flustered. The girl wondered about how much her life at work would change once Tseng returned to work, and had the sudden feeling that it was going to be for the better.

Standing up, Elena took the envelope and went straight to the apartment's exit. She closed the door behind her, not sparing another glance to the bare walls.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

Tseng never mentioned the hideout when she reported back to him. Either it was of no importance whatsoever and she had been overreacting, or he was as flustered as she had been and tried his best to pretend that the incident never happened.

Her boss opened the envelope in front of her, taking out of it a worn-looking folder full of reports. He explained to her the subject of said reports with a richness of details.

"You must know what you are going to face when you deliver this," he said before starting the story.

And he told her about Ania Earnhart, her accidental encounter with Sephiroth when he was still a child of five, their relationship as mother and son, though they didn't share the same blood, and her end, assassinated at Hojo's order.

"I want you to take an escort and a helicopter and go to Icicle Inn in four days. There you will encounter Avalanche and Sephiroth. He has changed," Tseng reassured her. "He won't be friendly, but neither will he be violent. Tell him that I am in debt with him and that I hope this makes us even."

"I understand," Elena nodded. "But they are going to battle Jenova, aren't they? Maybe they will die. Is this because you don't want him to die without knowing the truth?"

"They won't battle Jenova," Tseng said. "Maybe they will find her, but I've been talking with Reno again. He and Rude have been assigned to the Highwind, to serve as an escort to the President. Scarlet and Hojo will be going as well, along with Heidegger, since they will use the Highwind. The President thinks he has found the Promised Land, and that it lies within the Northern Crater."

Elena's eyes widened in surprise, but she still didn't understand.

"At first my reason was the one you said before, that Sephiroth deserved to die knowing the truth, but things have changed since this afternoon," he smirked viciously. "You must also tell him that Hojo will be at the Northern Crater."

"But what if Sephiroth attacks the President as well!" she exclaimed.

Tseng shook his head, still smirking.

"The hatred Sephiroth harbors towards Hojo is too intense to focus in anyone else. We cannot dispose of Hojo without a direct order of the President, for he's still the head of a Department, so Sephiroth will do it for us."

"I… see. It's personal, then."

The smirk faded and his face darkened.

"It's not only me, Elena. Hojo conducted many experiments on humans, and the subjects were never volunteers. Aerith and her mother were his victims until they escaped, but the mother died as a result of said experiments. He even took members of our staff as subjects, killing them if they tried to escape or weren't fit for what he had in mind. Not only that, but when…" he paused, clenching his teeth. "When I captured Aerith, Hojo wanted to force her to mate with an animal, the red beast who now accompanies AVALANCHE. We aren't saints, Elena, but we don't kill or torture at whim. Hojo's hands are stained with innocent blood, and that blood cries out for justice. If I can do anything to bring that justice upon him, I'll do it. The only thing I regret is not being able to do it myself. For that, I'm sorry that you have to face Sephiroth in my place."

"I understand," Elena nodded, and then she remembered what she had collected from his home. "I almost forgot!"

She took out the little stack of photos from her jacket.

"I'm sorry I rummaged through your things," she apologized.

"Where did you find these?" he asked, taking the pictures. He didn't show the slightest gesture of annoyance.

"The lumber room of your apartment," Elena explained. "I was surprised to find it locked so I… lock picked the padlock."

Tseng sighed.

"What I can recall is that, when everything began, I threw away all the things that reminded me of my past. I don't recall locking them."

"There were more things, but I thought you'd like to have these," she said quickly, while her cheeks began to burn again.

Tseng seemed not to pay attention to her, watching the photos with a sad smile. She thought about going out already when he finally looked at her.

"Thank you, Elena," he said sincerely, the soft smile never leaving his face.

"Aren't you angry?" she wondered, her hands behind her back to hide their trembling. She was fully aware that her face was deep scarlet and she felt her hear racing, as if it wanted to go out of her chest.

"How could I? I completely forgot about what I had done with my personal belongings and you brought them back. I'll have to think about a way to repay you."

Elena smiled nervously but said nothing, her voice gone somewhere else. She made a brief bow and finally went out to make the necessary arrangements.

After closing the door, she looked up and down the corridor. Glad that it was empty she leaned onto the wall, sighing deeply and trying to slow down her heart. She wanted to believe that Tseng had been joking, but he seemed deadly serious, something that unnerved her in a way she didn't want to know. After some moments, Elena walked to the stairs leading to the rooftop. Though she could have made the call inside the building, the young Turk felt the need for fresh air.

She closed her phone once the arrangements where done, though she lingered on the rooftop for a while.

Cliff Resort was located in the mountain range between Kalm and the Chocobo Farm. Though it was far away from Midgar, one could still see the metropolis and the surrounding wasteland. She was supposed to serve as a permanent escort to Heidegger aboard the Highwind, but Reno had changed it for this special "mission". As she watched the last rays of sunlight reflecting on the perpetual grey clouds of Midgar, she inwardly thanked Reno for his decision. And she felt a little giddy, something that hadn't happened to her since she was in High School, for she couldn't erase from her mind how Tseng's brown eyes had gazed at her so warmly, or how his serious face softened when he smiled so sincerely.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

**END**** OF CHAPTER 33.**

I'm truly sorry for this long absence, but real life has been a real bitch, both to me and my betareader. But fear not, because we come with renewed forces! (Or so I think).

Anyway, I'm glad that I took so much time to post this, so I could read the complete translation of Case of Shinra, and make this fanfict a little more consistent with canon. Ironic that I say that, after doing what I did with Sephiroth and Aerith, but whatever.

See you next chapter!!!


	34. 34 Memories

**Disclaimer:** Again, I don't own any character of Final Fantasy, any of them, much to my dismay (I wish I could own pre-psycho Sephiroth all to me, but it cannot be).

This fanfict has been inspired by the song of Yann Tiersen, "Comptine d'un Autre Étè".

Many thanks to everyone for their encouragement, corrections and ideas.

Enjoy!

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

**CHAPTER ****34.**

XXXXXX-X-XXXXXX

The sun hadn't come out yet when they got out of the house. Aerith shivered when the chilly morning breeze caressed her cheeks. Soon a powerful arm was around her shoulders, keeping her closer to her lover.

They gazed at the silent houses, phantasmagorical forms among a sea of mist. Aerith's heart sunk when she thought that maybe the houses were now empty and her friends had gone out of the City. Maybe Tifa had convinced Cloud to quit the quest. Aerith couldn't blame her, for she would have made the same with Sephiroth.

"_Maybe they felt ashamed and didn't want to say goodbye,"_ she thought._ "It's a suicide mission, after all. Sure everyone has their own reason for staying behind and not being killed."_

A rhythmical metal clank echoed among the mist. They didn't move from where they stood, and they saw the figure of Vincent Valentine approaching them.

"You are up quite early," said the crimson cloaked man.

"Where are the others?" Sephiroth asked, feigning to ignore the comment. Though Vincent's voice was deadpan, the swordsman could catch a slight note of amusement. Normally he would have felt infuriated at some unknown guy poking his nose on his personal matters, but now he didn't care. In fact, he felt extremely smug about the fact that others knew that Aerith was his, and that he was hers.

"Still sleeping. The fires died some hours ago. It seems like they aren't as powerful with magic fire as you two. Your fire has been burning until now."

"She's a gifted magician," Sephiroth whispered, looking at Aerith, who blushed and smiled timidly to him.

"Might we wake them up?" she said, still smiling. It was not only the effect that Sephiroth had on her, but also the deep relief she felt knowing that her friends hadn't abandoned her.

"Last night we held a long council," Vincent answered. "But I think that they can survive with less hours of sleep. The house to your left is the girl's one."

With that and a flip of his cloak he went clacking his way to the house to her right, unceremoniously opening the door and closing it behind him.

Sephiroth released her shoulders.

"You look pleased," he said softly.

"I thought they had left us," she sighed.

"In any case, they would have left _you_," he pointed out.

She lowered her gaze.

"It would be natural for them to still hold a grudge against me," he continued. "I was aware of that fact from the moment I turned my back on Jenova. But it's still a very small part of what would have happened if I had never found you."

Aerith looked at him again. His smile was so soft, his eyes so gentle; the previous night, as they laid together, Sephiroth whispered to her that he felt he had found at last what he had been looking for during his whole life. And she felt the same, as if her soul had been restless and uncomfortable, but it calmed down when they finally met and disclosed what their hearts held for each other. They were happy, and still they were travelling to a certain death and an unsure victory. Such was Life itself, full of paradoxes and seeming impossibilities.

The girl felt his hand holding hers and intertwining their fingers. She freed herself after a moment and walked some steps backwards, always with a playful smile in her lips.

"I have to wake up Tifa and Yuffie," she giggled.

That mischievous attitude seemed to trigger something inside him, for his face changed from a sweet gaze to a sly smirk, his catlike eyes sweeping over her frame with a hungry look. She knew he was restraining himself; otherwise he would chase after her, take her in his arms and carry her to the house again. The thought was appealing, but they had more pressing matters.

The sound of a door banging open made her jump out of her skin. Cid was on the threshold of the men's house, scratching his stubble with a sleepy air.

"Mo'nin', lov'bird'," he muttered before disappearing behind said house, yawning noisily.

She took advance of the distraction and dashed for the girls' house.

As Vincent told them, the fire had died. But the two girls were still fast asleep. Aerith woke them up at last (not without a loud protest from Yuffie) and asked them if they really decided to go on.

"I have to go too," Tifa said. "Jenova killed our parents, so it's my fight too."

"But, weren't you going to go back to where those bone-diggers were?" Yuffie asked.

"I want to go with Sephiroth, so I convinced him," Aerith said with a wink.

"C'mon missies!" came Cid's yell from the outside. "We're gonna grow roots out 'ere!"

Tifa giggled.

"He's always in a foul mood in the morning," she said. "It got worse since he ran out of tobacco last night."

"And since he can't have his damned tea," Yuffie added.

But they got out from the house and joined their male companions. They set up for the path leading West, across the Forest and towards the mountains.

It seemed strange not to find any enemy ever since they had entered the Sleeping Forest, though when they abandoned the security of the trees there were signs of nearby presences among the rocks and cracks in the high cliffs. Rope ladders were still attached to the rock wall at the foot of said cliffs. Though they looked worn-out, they still seemed strong enough to bear the weight of a person. Without a word, Sephiroth picked up Aerith and leapt upwards, like he had done outside the Mithril Mines; Vincent did the same, and the rest had to climb by their own means.

"Seems the bad guy isn't as bad as he's made out to be," Cid huffed as they climbed slowly. "And the damsel in distress wasn't in such a fix either."

No one said anything. Nanaki was about to mouth his own appreciation of the situation, but chose otherwise. Though at first Aerith had needed their help, now Cid was right: in the end she didn't want to be rescued. He wondered if those changes of mind were normal among humans. Among his race, it was not normal for a member to prey over other members of the same species and, if he did, it was less usual to change one's mind and start wooing the victim, and it would have been even crazier to think that the victim would mate willingly with the predator.

He was completely ignorant about the mating ritual of humans. He had never asked his grandfather because he never thought he would need to know about it, so he didn't know if it was considered a taboo, never to be spoken in public. He was also ignorant whether if it was good or bad for Aerith that her scent had changed since the previous day, and what that meant.

Each one of his companions had a scent, and he could recognize them with his eyes closed. He had even discovered some curious things about some members of the group, but he chose not to reveal that information, because he didn't know if humans worked like his own race.

"_I still have much to learn,"_ he thought. _"Humans are so fascinating!"_

Contrary to what they expected, the cave at the top wasn't a maze of rocky passages, only a room with a high natural ceiling, from which many stalactites hung, some of them joining their ground counterparts and forming natural columns. But they didn't have time to admire the natural architecture of the place, for there was a sight that made them stop at once.

The mysterious cloaked man laid in a heap of black torn clothes and blood, just some meters away from the open air. As much as he could break the arm of that woman back at the encampment, he couldn't stand against the monsters.

Sephiroth approached him without hesitance and kneeled beside the corpse.

"He's dead, but whatever attacked him didn't eat his flesh," he said.

"Then we should be cautious," said Vincent, his hand beside Cerberus.

A rustling sound alerted them. It came from a dark corner of the room which, upon closer inspection, opened to a narrow passage.

"It seems we interrupted a meal," Sephiroth said. He turned to the others. "This place is too narrow for the whole of us."

"I'll fight," Vincent stated, his crimson eyes fixed upon the passage.

"I'll fight too," Cloud said, drawing out Angeal's Buster Sword. He had been silent since that morning, and a fire burned in his blue eyes. Sephiroth knew that fire: it was rage. It would come in handy for the situation.

The others exited the cave just in time, for a monster came out of the dark crack on the wall. It was a creature with the body of a giant crab with a gigantic pincer on its left, half the body of a serpent on its right, and a giant anemone on its back. It crawled along one of the inner walls of the crack until it was half out, then it leapt and landed in front of the only exit, prepared for battle.

"An Acrophies," Sephiroth said. "They don't like thunder magic."

"But any magic will make the chamber collapse," the gunman warned, and his eyes widened when he noticed the anemone gathering energy for a magic attack.

Without a word, Cloud lunged forward, a bluish aura shinning around him. The Acrophites tried to snap him in half with his giant pincer, but Cloud leaped at the last moment, wielding his sword with both hands behind him. He discharged a powerful hack, slicing the anemone and cracking a part of the monster's shell. The serpent hissed in anger and charged forward to him, jaws wide open, showing four long poisonous fangs. Cerberus thundered and the snake drew back, blinded in one eye. That was the cue for Cloud to leap again and chop off the serpent's head in one clean slash. It was Sephiroth's turn to charge and, with a finishing blow, he sliced the crab's body in half.

The Acrophites collapsed with a loud thump on the cave's floor. Fortunately, the corpse of the cloaked man remained undisturbed by the brawl. It was time to retrieve the Black Materia and get out of there. Sephiroth turned up the body of the man: his skin was as white as chalk, his expression frozen in one of terror, and his eyes, still open, were completely green, even the whites.

"Just like in Nibelheim," Cloud muttered. "But he's not from there."

"What?" Sephiroth frowned.

"Nibelheim has been reconstructed," Cloud answered icily, holding his gaze. "We went there, but it was different. It was full of strangers. Only few of our old neighbors were there, and someone had turned them into zombies. We ran onto one of them and he was muttering something about getting the Black Materia."

"I knew nothing of that," Sephiroth sighed, remembering how very little he really knew about what Jenova planned. "Well, it could be better said that I didn't realized it until I shook off her influence."

"I thought you created them," Cloud said, his icy tone melting and being replaced with surprise.

"It's all Jenova's doing," he answered, rummaging among the rags. "She infects people with her cells and makes puppets out of them. That's her way of conquering planets."

He found the Black Materia. It was a dark sphere, fitting perfectly in the hollow of his hand, but it was heavier than it seemed. It was lifeless, though, no trace of the magic he and Aerith had felt back at the Temple.

"It's too silent outside," Vincent pointed out.

Cloud and Sephiroth exchanged a look and hurried to the exit after the gunman. The silver haired man hid the Materia inside a pocket in his coat while he readied Masamune again.

The cave opened to a steep slope full of trees. No one was in the immediate surroundings of the entrance, and they began to search frantically for their companions, until Vincent heard their voices at last and called for the other two.

The rest of the group was down the deep valley, in a wide clearing. A flock of chocobos was standing near them and the carcasses of several wolves laid in the snow.

Aerith ran towards them when she saw the trio and hugged Sephiroth.

"I'm so glad you are all ok!" she exclaimed.

"What happened?" he asked, while the four walked towards the others.

She explained briefly that they had heard the chocobos squeaking and crying and ran to see what it was, and they discovered the wolves trying to hunt them down. They killed the wolves and, like what happened with Sephiroth in the Grasslands, the chocobos were friendly with their saviors. So they now had mounts to cross the snowfields.

Though there were enough birds for everyone, Sephiroth insisted that he and Aerith had to travel together. Cloud and Tifa also shared one, because Cloud argued that the girl had never mounted a chocobo before and could fall off. Barret had a mount for himself, due to his weigh, but he could also carry the bundle of blankets they took from the City. Caith Sith's giant moogle was carried by Cid's chocobo, while Caith himself traveled atop Nanaki, something to which the red beast didn't complain about. The only one who loudly dissented was Yuffie.

"I should travel with Nanaki!" she protested. "These birds make me sneeze!"

She shut up, though, when Vincent hauled her atop his own mount behind him; for better or worse, the silent man exerted some kind of influence on the hyper girl. When they began to move, it was clear that allergies weren't the reason why Yuffie didn't want to mount them. Judging by the way she gripped at Vincent's cape and the shade of pale green her face acquired, one could deduce that, either she was deadly afraid of falling off, or her motion sickness also affected her when traveling by chocobo. Lucky for her only Nanaki and Caith were behind them, so Cid couldn't make fun of the young girl.

So this way they traveled through the snowy fields. Upon leaving the forest they had to head South until they could see the sea again, and then to the West, following the shape of the mountains until they branched almost to the seashore. They had to run past the branching and then head to Northeast, to Icicle Inn. On foot, they would have reached their destination in about five days, but by chocobo that time was cut out to only two.

Aerith watched the scenery pass beside them, and she caught a glimpse of the sea as they turned West. This felt so different than the first time they had shared a mount, and many things had changed. Now she basked in the feeling of a powerful chest at her back and a strong arm around her waist. They didn't speak during the travel, but she found herself stroking absently the gloved hand around her body. She felt his breath on her hair and, from time to time, he kissed her hair or her neck. They were enjoying that journey as much as they had suffered the last one.

"Next stop is Icicle Inn, isn't it?" Aerith asked. Their faces were so close they didn't need to raise their voices too much.

"Yes, do you remember it?" he said into her hear.

"How could I? I grew up in the labs, remember?"

Sephiroth remained silent. Icicle Inn was the place where Aerith had been born.

"Don't you know it?" he asked.

"Nope."

"It's the place where you were born."

Aerith went rigid.

"How do you know it?"

"When I… found you, there was a report about you. It said you were born there."

The girl relaxed again, but she bowed her head.

"I never knew," she muttered. "My mother never talked about it. Well, she never told me where she was from, or who my father was."

Sephiroth tightened his hold on her. Aerith didn't speak for the rest of the day. If Icicle was the place where she had been born, that would mean that her father would have lived there. She wondered if he was still alive, or if anyone could remember him. But she didn't know what to do if she found him. She snuggled against Sephiroth, seeking comfort into his arms.

They reached the mountains' branching at sunset; being diurnal animals, the chocobos slowed their pace, and it was a matter of time before they refused to move at all. They found a cave to spend the night in on the slope of one of the mountain branches, and there they made camp for that night.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

The night was calmer than he expected.

His crimson eyes swept the horizon and his ears keened for any sound, any sign of peril, but found nothing. The chocobos slept peacefully in a tight flock near the entrance of the cave. He was sure they would be the first ones to sound the alarm in case they sensed anything.

Vincent sighed in relief, leaning onto the stone wall. The last thing he needed was to be involved in a serious battle and sustain too many injuries. He could still take it, but it was better not to risk that possibility.

The deep silence of the snowy field made his mind wander. He checked that he wasn't reflecting his thoughts outside his mind, because now he knew that there was someone who could listen to them. There were many memories he wanted to forget while he was inside that coffin, for they were too painful for him, but now that he at last understood many things, they weren't sorrowful, yet he had a bitter-sweet feeling when recollecting them.

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

_I remember that day of May. Hojo and Gast had gone __to Midgar two days before, and they would stay there for over a month, since Gast had several symposiums scheduled, and Hojo had gone to help him. Gast had chosen him over Lucrecia, not because she wasn't competent for the task, but because she was too competent, and that would be a waste of her talents. Plus, Hojo had been more than eager to be of help, just because he thought that being a bootlicker would give him more influences inside the Department._

_I'd laugh at that if his __asskissing strategy hadn't granted him so much power afterwards._

_It was a perfect __spring day, so Lucrecia decided to go for a walk through the outskirts of Nibelheim. I went with her, since I was her bodyguard. For once, she had discarded her lab coat and was wearing her normal clothes, a sleeveless top and a skirt, everything in blue tones. She was so beautiful. It's so easy to carry out your work if it's a pleasant one._

_I remember __sitting under the shadow of a tree, just for pleasure. Being born in Midgar gives you a different view of the countryside from that of other people born in smaller cities. As Midgar was like a fairytale to country people, those open, green spaces under a blue sky weren't too far away from that concept for people like me. My father always regretted that I wasn't able to grow up surrounded by nature, like he and my mother had been._

_Before I knew, I was lying on my back, watc__hing the green leaves, basking in the sound of the gentle breeze among them and the chirping of birds, surely in their mating season. Drowsiness overcame me and I allowed myself to close my eyes. I must have slept quite soundly, for I didn't notice the sound of footsteps or the voice calling for me, until it was loud enough to wake me up._

_It was Lucrecia__. She teased me about not being a good bodyguard and that I slept when I should have been looking after her. Of course, I fell for it, so great was my care for her, and apologized heartedly. She laughed with her soft voice, before taking from behind her back a picnic basket and inviting me to join her. Surely I had slept for a long time, enough for her to go to the General Store and the Inn to buy all our lunch. She had also acquired red wine, knowing that it was my favorite. As soon as I saw the food I deduced she couldn't have possibly prepared it herself, because she didn't have the slightest notion about cooking, not surprising if she spent all her time inside a lab or buried under a mountain of books and papers doing thousands of researches and experiments. I always saw it as a charming flaw. Don't ask me why. Maybe I was bewitched._

_I sensed that something was amiss. She wasn't __that cheerful on a daily basis. Not that I complained about it, because I loved to see her happy. After we cleared away the remaining of our little feast, we laid under the tree with the basket between us. Ever since we had met six months before, we never had a chance for a relaxed conversation like this. Something that I loved in her was that she wasn't a lab rat, someone that only knew about experiments and science like most of her fellow scientists. Lucrecia loved music, literature and science-fiction B-movies. She said that those films were better than comedies to her. A scientist laughing at a sci-fi B-movie. Figures._

"_Say, Vincent," she said at a certain moment. She now laid on her side__, her head resting on her slender, white arm. "Why did you come to this place?"_

"_Huh?" I turned my head to her._

"_I mean, you are a very capable Turk. I saw your records at the shooting gallery," she said those last words with a faint blush on her cheeks as she played absently with the grass. "A post like this must be quite boring for you."_

"_It isn't," I answered__ truthfully. "I'm glad I'm in a tranquil place for once. I was growing tired of Midgar."_

_While I spoke, she gazed at me with her hazel eyes, serious and attentive. I fell silent, without looking away from her, until she suddenly realized what we were doing and looked away from my eyes, turning to lie again on her back, her cheeks of a bright scarlet._

"_I__-I was only curious," she stammered, apologetically._

_I __smirked, despite myself. No matter how brilliant of a scientist she was, she still acted like a girl. I gazed again at the green foliage over our heads in silence. After a while I thought about a question for her but, when I looked at Lucrecia, she had fallen asleep. I smiled that time, watching her face half-turned to me, her chest gently heaving._

_I tore my eyes from her when I felt my __face burning. I didn't feel like I could take those liberties with her, but the fact that she had fallen asleep around me spoke volumes._

_So I did the only thing I could: I took away my jacket__, putting it over her like a blanket and waited for her to wake up._

_Lucrecia slept during a good part of the afternoon and she woke up just in time to watch the sunset.__ It was my turn to tease her about falling asleep in the open._

"_You are mean," she half giggled, half pouted._

_She asked me a lot of questions as we watched the sunset; somehow I felt that she knew some of the answers beforehand. When I told her that I had learned to play the piano when I was a child, her eyes __lit up._

"_I know it's late," she said timidly. "So, could you play something for me tomorrow?"_

_She had the eagerness of a little girl, and I wanted to impress her, so I promised to play for her as soon as we returned. She was flustered, torn between her wish of asking me that and the awkwardness it produced to her, but I assured her that it was a pleasure for me. We were young and stupid. Somehow, I wish I could go back to when I was that way again._

_We returned to the Manor. The streets were empty already, since the villagers were inside their homes, having dinner.__ I insisted that she still had to wear my jacket, for the night's breeze was indeed chilly._

_I played for her __at the old grand piano of the dining room. I've always been aware of my ability to stir certain emotions in people's hearts with music. It was something shared by the descendants of the same Cetran tribe. I never spoke of my Ancient heritage, because I felt no different from any human being. My father encouraged that, for he said that our race had become the subject of fairytales. Either they wouldn't believe me, taking me for a madman or a trickster, or they would indeed believe me and imprison me inside a lab to study my body as if I were an animal. My father taught me that Humans and Cetra were almost genetically equal, in such a way that a Cetra and a Human could procreate with total normality, and that no common DNA analysis revealed such difference, except when performed a certain search for a single gene, unique to us. But my father took care not to leave any record or hint of it, and he made me swear over my mother's tomb that I would never disclose such information. I never understood clearly my father's zeal over our origins, until I met Aerith, and I knew what terrible fate laid upon her._

_For Lucrecia, I chose a particular song which I knew __could give me an answer to the question that had been nagging me since I met her. One could think that I tried to bewitch her. Far from my intention! I could never force any emotion into any heart, no matter how much I desired it. Our music only made people become aware of what lay within their hearts. To any impartial listener, it wouldn't have any consequence, except that said listener could consider it a bit oversweet, perhaps._

_When the last notes died away, I turned to Lucrecia. She was looking through one of the wi__ndows on the other side of the room, giving her back to me. All my alarms sounded when I thought I overheard her sobbing._

"_Lucrecia?" I called for her as I got up and ran to where she stood. I stopped at an arm's reach, though._

_She shook her head violently, but she seemed to fail to form the words._

"_I'm sorry," I said__, feeling like an idiot. "I shouldn't have played that. I didn't know you were that sensitive to music."_

"_It's ok."_

_Her voice quivered with her tears. She wiped her face and then she turned to me._

"_It's ok," she repeated with a firmer voice. "It's just that it was so beautiful… I don't know what's gotten into me today."_

_She giggled, still teary._

"_Still, it's my fault that you are crying," I murmured._

_I stepped forward, well aware of my racing heart and, reaching for her face with my hand, I brushed away a single tear with my thumb. __Seeing her like this tore my heart apart. I didn't know what to say and I repented already for my actions with her. It had been too selfish of me to test her that way, not knowing if I forced her to remember a lost love, or a forbidden one, thus her tears. I made to move my hand away, but she took it between hers. They were thin and delicate, and so soft. She must have caught the baffled look in my eyes, because she smiled tenderly._

"_No, it's __not your fault," she said, and then her smile vanished as she let my hand go. "Sorry, you must think I'm drunk."_

_I laughed, feeling the tension easing. If she was drunk then I was the reincarnation of the Calamity__ from the Skies._

"_You can't be drunk," I told her. "You only emptied half a glass of wine this morning."_

_She laughed faintly with me. I knew the moment was ruined completely, and I felt very disappointed for that. I turned around and strode to the entrance; I tried to sound casual, to not to admit my defeat, but maybe I failed at that too._

"_I think we should get some rest," I managed to say._

"_Thank you.__ For today."_

_Those words nailed me to the floor. I heard her footsteps coming closer and I turned around. She stopped quite nearer than at arm's reach. Her cheeks were slightly flustered, and there was a strange sparkle in her eyes, mingled with something similar to fear. But, fear of what?_

"_D-Don't mention it,__" I stammered._

"_Still," she whispered._

_She stepped forward more, still holding my jacket over her shoulders, until we were almost touching each other. Good Shiva, she was tall for a woman! I stood around six feet tall, and she could still look at me in the eye without having a crick in the neck. She was almost leaning on me and I could sense the stiffness of all her muscles. Slowly, dubiously, she delivered a light kiss on my lips. So that was where all that fear came from: she was afraid of me rejecting her! I could have laughed at this occurrence. How could I reject her, when I would have died for that single kiss? Before she withdrew, I gently took her shoulders with my hands and kept my cheek beside hers, caressing her soft skin. She relaxed at once, though her heart seemed to want to go out from her chest. It was my turn to kiss her, though I didn't intend it to be light or brief. She accepted me the very moment my lips touched hers, though she was trembling from head to toes, and I knew the answer to my question._

_But I didn't stop there. My hands went from her shoul__ders to her back, embracing her, trapping her, dragging her to me, as my lips went lower to her slender neck. She gasped my name in a ragged breath, only adding more fuel to what I was feeling. She squealed in surprise when I took her in my arms all of a sudden, though she embraced my neck tightly. She didn't release me, except for turning off the light of the dining room. But I didn't allow her to turn on any light in our way to my bedroom. I could find my way around that house with my eyes bandaged; as a Turk I had to face many different environments, and darkness was the most common of them._

_That night she gave __herself to me, and I gave her my heart in return, treating her with the utmost delicacy, while she presented me with all the passion she had for me. Later that night, I watched her as she slept in my arms. I kissed her tousled hair and cradled her close to me. That was our first night with each other, the honeymoon we would never have. After Gast and Hojo returned from their business at Midgar, we kept on seeing each other, though more discreetly. However, that brief happiness soon ended, and transformed into a nightmare. Today I know exactly the concatenation of events that led me and my travel companions to this situation, though my soul still has a hard time trying to swallow it. _

_During these thirty years I've been blaming myself for all I didn't. I should have told Gast that the Cetra weren't superior beings; that we were like normal humans, but with a single different gene that allowed us to manipulate magic, and communicate with the Planet with more ease. But Hojo ended up having more power that Gast himself, and I became afraid of him. Suddenly the words from my father came to my mind. If I said something they would inquire where I had learned such things, if they believed me at all, and then I would become a test subject. I was terrified before that prospect. I admit I was a coward, and I lost the love of my life because of that._

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

Vincent opened his eyes again. Dawn wasn't near still.

There were furtive, small steps inside the cave. He assumed they belonged to one of the ladies, and he confirmed that when he saw Yuffie's little head popping out of the entrance and looking to this side and the other. She smiled when she saw him and sauntered towards him.

"Night, Vince," she whispered merrily.

He inclined his head politely, though he said nothing.

"Sooo, Vince," the young girl began. There was something in the way she eyed him that he didn't like at all. "It's a nice night, isn't it?"

"I assume you didn't get up in the middle of the night just to talk about the starry sky," he said dryly.

She giggled girlishly.

"You're right, I came to talk about your debt," she said with an impish smile as she swept her eyes over him.

Vincent bathed in cold sweat. There was an unpleasant event in his past that was eerily similar to what was happening now. He could never forget the day he was assigned to be the bodyguard of that spoiled brat of Scarlet. The girl wasn't older than twelve, yet she was already a predator. She had forced every male bodyguard into bed under the threat of being imprisoned under the accusation of rape. He wasn't any different, but he resorted to the help of his friend Verdot, who switched his post with a female Turk just in time. The destination of that female Turk had been Nibelheim.

"True, I promised you I would do something for you," he said stoically.

"Weeeell, I want you to give me something," she said, always with her voice lowered to a whisper.

"And, what is that something?" he cursed himself for his stupidity.

"Aw, it's just a teeny-weenie little deed that will make you feel happier and more relieved," she said, coming closer and closer to him. "And you will like it."

"_Fuck…"_

She was leaning closer to him and he tried to step back, despite the rocky wall behind him. Suddenly she straightened her back in surprise.

"Vince, are you feeling well?" she asked innocently. "Your cheeks are all pink and you look like you just saw a ghost. Geeze! If I'd known you were so stingy I wouldn't have thought about asking for your Materia."

"My…" Vincent blinked twice. "My what?" he felt as if they were talking in two totally different languages.

"Materia, Vincent, Materia!" she exclaimed with exasperation, rolling her eyes like she was explaining the obvious to an idiot. "I'm a Materia Huntress, I need it for Wutai, and I wanted you to give me half of the Materia you find when all this madness is finished. C'mon! It's only half of it! I could have asked for the whole lot!"

"And," he struggled with the words, glaring at her while trying to hide his embarrassment. "May I ask how it could make me happier OR relieved?"

"You will feel relieved when carrying half the weight," she chirped. "Aaaaaand, they say that _sharing is happiness_, right? So you should like to be happy."

He sighed deeply, massaging the bridge of his nose to ease the growing headache.

"All right, Yuffie," he admitted tiredly. "You will have half of it. A deal is a deal."

"YAY! Thanks, Vinnie!" she somehow squealed in a low voice, bouncing in delight before him like a little kid. Then she tackled him with a hug that took all the air out of his lungs before returning hastily and silently to the cave.

"By the way," she said before disappearing into the cave. "You look cute when you blush."

"_Me and my big mouth,"_ the gunman though sourly, rubbing his sore stomach.

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

They reached the village at sundown.

Icicle Inn was a pretty small village nestled in the narrow valley among two mountains. Crossing it was the only way to reach the Great Glacier. Though they left the chocobos upon arriving, the animals didn't run away back to the wilderness, but they gathered at a nearby cluster of trees to spend the night.

Despite her worries and her nervousness, Sephiroth could see how Aerith's face brightened upon seeing the settlement.

"How pretty!" Tifa exclaimed.

"It looks like a Yule postcard," Aerith said, and then closed the collar of her coat, shivering. "But maybe we should have bought some scarves."

Sephiroth surrounded again her shoulders with an arm. He smiled at himself, marveling at how little the village had changed over the years. He still remembered the first mission he shared with Angeal and Genesis at that location. The redhead had been furious at Sephiroth's immunity to cold, hence still being able to go around bare-chested, while he had to wear an awful lot of clothes, more than he was used to, and even with that he caught pneumonia. Sephiroth could still hear his formidable sneezes and his curses at why the silver haired man was granted with the gift of being able to show off his looks wherever they went, while he had to cover himself up to the neck (or upper) if he didn't want to catch a cold.

"Yeah, yeah," said Barret, who gritted his teeth, trying to hide that he was shivering from the cold. "But I'd giv' ma left arm fo' a warm place right nao."

"There's a pub under the inn, below the ground level," Sephiroth informed them as they walked towards said inn.

"I see," Cid commented. "That way they can keep the place warm an' the patrons snug like a bug in a rug."

They entered hurriedly in the building. While Cloud checked in at the counter, the rest went underground. As Cid said, being underground helped to maintain the warmth of the place, while several ventilation grilles near the ceiling prevented the atmosphere from becoming too dense.

It wasn't specially crowded, something logical, being Icicle such a small village. There was a small group of young people, tourists seeking to practice snowboarding, while the locals were mostly represented by few elderly men sat here and there in small groups. Everyone turned their heads upon their arriving, but soon they went back to their business. However, Sephiroth noticed how the elderly men stared at Aerith and began whispering nervously. She must have noticed it, for she turned her head towards the patrons, who quickly fell silent.

They could pick some tables at the far end of the room near a fireplace shaped like a dragon's head, where they ordered food and warm drinks for everyone, even for Nanaki, whom the owner seemed not to mind much, despite his size and appearance of a wild beast. Nanaki thought bitterly that maybe they supposed him to be a pet, but remained in silence in the corner, shielded from the rest of the room by his companions. Caith accompanied him, because they didn't trust him enough leave him alone in the rooms.

Sephiroth told them briefly about the path they would have to follow. The Great Glacier was a tricky place to travel and one could get lost easily. He knew the way to the Crater, and he explained the route to the others. Along the way they would encounter lesser monsters, but they had to be prepared for the snowstorms and walk in a tight group, so no one could get lost. Then they would have to climb the side of the Crater, which would be far more difficult and dangerous than the cliffs from the Sleeping Forest.

After clearing the plates, it was clear that everyone had understood the situation, and that the long travel had taken a toll on them. Yuffie was trying not to nod off and ended up leaning against Tifa's shoulder. The other girl smiled motherly at this and sat as still as she could. Cid smoked calmly an after-dinner cigar from his newly acquired pack, and before him sat a steaming cup of strong scented tea. Those two things seemed the perfect remedy for his moodiness. The others were in silence; as if everyone was pondering what they had heard.

"A'wright," Barret said at last. "So we know what really happ'nd an' all, but no'ne explained why Jenova was headless, in da first place, an' dat really bothers me."

The silver haired man gritted his teeth. Telling them the whole tale would involve disclosing the truth about Cloud, and he couldn't afford the risk of the younger man losing his mind for good.

"I don't remember," he lied. "After I engaged in combat with Cloud my mind went blank until the day I awoke in the Northern Crater, mere weeks ago. Jenova must have erased my memories of that event, and I presume I have been dormant all these years."

He saw by the corner of his eye how Tifa's face darkened as she lowered her eyes. She knew something; he was sure, since she was there that day. Maybe she harbored the same fears about Cloud losing his mind? Ludicrous, for it was highly unlikely that she knew how Mako or the Jenova cells affected the human body. But her silence was welcomed, in any case.

"There's a thin' I don't understand," the pilot said, slowly puffing smoke. "I know that Jenova is goin' to kill us all and that crap, but I still don't know what the hell she's gonna do. Don't take me on the wron' side, but maybe if we learn'd more details we could know better what we are we facin'. For what Cloud tol' me," Cid continued, looking at Sephiroth, "you were s'pposed to kidnap the missie at yer side, and help Jenova to conquer the Planet, but I think it would be nice if you filled us in."

Sephiroth felt Aerith taking his hand under the table. He answered back interlacing his fingers with hers.

"My initial mission," he explained calmly, "was to free Jenova's body from her confinement in Shinra's laboratory. That I found Aerith inside those labs was an accident, to tell the truth, but Jenova ordered me all the same to bring her to the Northern Crater, so she could dispose of her spiritual energy."

"The Northern Crater!" Cloud exclaimed, wide eyed. "Isn't that place we are going to?"

"I chose to go," Aerith replied, her grasp on Sephiroth's hand tightening. "I know I can help in the fight."

"I understand, Aerith," the blond said. "But I still think it's too dangerous for you."

Unlike what he expected, Aerith didn't get angry at him. Some weeks back her eyes had flared at those words of him, when he suggested that he had to go alone to rescue Tifa from Don Corneo's house. This time she laughed softly; it wasn't a girlish giggle, but a calm and serene sound.

"You know I can defend myself," she said.

"And she won't be alone," Sephiroth added, gazing at her. She blushed, still smiling, and lowered her eyes.

Cid grunted something, rolling his eyes and taking a sip from his tea.

"All those things are OK," the pilot said after he left his cup on the table. "But what I wanna know is what the hell is she gonna do to us. I don't know you, but I like to know why they want me dead."

"She never gave me many details, and the only things she told me were lies," was Sephiroth's answer. He hated to be embarrassed in front of people, and now he was, because he was admitting he had been a fool. "What I know is that she's obsessed with acquiring more spiritual energy."

"Spiritual energy?" Vincent asked, suddenly alarmed. "The energy of the Lifestream?"

Sephiroth looked at him for a moment, asking himself how many more secrets that man knew.

"That seems to be the case," he said. "She wanted me to go on a killing spree all over the world after I left Aerith with her. That's why she forced me to kill all the inhabitants at Nibelheim."

"Then she's trying it again. Though by different means," Vincent explained, and Sephiroth saw how those last words affected him, though he couldn't know why.

"Whaddaya mean _different means?_" Barret asked.

"I remember!" Aerith exclaimed. "I read Professor Gast's books back in Cosmo Canyon. He said that Jenova wanted to awaken Omega, infect it and travel to another planet to do the same."

"Now I'm lost," Cid said, defeated. He voiced the thought of the majority.

"Omega is the ultimate form of life," Vincent began. "Just as we return to the Planet when we die, the Planet itself returns to the Cosmos when the time comes. Before the final moment, the pure Lifestream will be brought together into one by Omega, the ultimate life form, whose purpose is to gather life, sentient and non-sentient, and lead it into the space. Omega is an elaborate safety mechanism designed solely to maintain and protect the flow of life, and normally it would pose no threat to us. But Jenova wanted the slaughter of thousands of innocent souls to trick the Planet into thinking that the end was near. She infected the Cetra, turning them into monsters that would make her bidding."

"But," Cloud interrupted, looking at Sephiroth. "If Jenova could possess… us, couldn't she do the same with other people? I mean, the man we encountered in our town, he knew where you two were heading to."

"Remember that we were SOLDIERs," Sephiroth answered. "Only people like us could make what she wants as quickly as she desires."

"So what's the plan, anyway?" the blond asked.

"You agreed to accompany me, but I'm the only one who should fight her," the other swordsman answered. Aerith suddenly looked at him with fearful eyes, but he seemed not to pay attention. "Having your group with me will make the travel faster and easier, but at the end of the road you should turn back and leave me."

"Sephiroth…" Aerith began pleadingly.

"Jenova is after you," he remembered her. "I'll return to you if I survive."

Aerith was about to say something, when a voice interrupted her.

"Excuse me, miss," an old man said to Aerith. "May I speak with you for a moment?"

He was one of the elderly patrons that had been sitting at the end of the room all the time. He had approached the group, while the rest of the old men were throwing worried glances towards him. He walked hunched, leaning on a stick. His beard was completely white, as his hair and thick brows, from under which peered two dark eyes.

"Of course," Aerith said, as she politely opened the distance between her and Cloud, who got up to grab another chair for the man.

"Er… we were discussing," he pointed over his shoulder to the rest of the old men when he finally sat among them, still leaning on his walking stick. "You are very alike a girl who lived here some twenty years ago and, well… this girl had a daughter before she went away and we were wondering if you were that daughter."

He said all this quite slowly, as if choosing his words with extreme care.

"You see," the old man added quickly. "We heard you pronouncing the name of Professor Gast and wondered if you had come to see the house."

"I'm sorry," Aerith responded. "I don't know…"

"Aren't you Aerith, Ifalna's daughter?"

The girl paled noticeably.

"Y-yes, my mother was Ifalna," she stammered.

The old man shook his head sadly.

"We were hoping that you weren't," he muttered to himself. "It was shameful from our part."

"What do you mean?" Cloud asked in bewilderment.

"Didn't your mother tell you anything?" the old man asked. "Or did they do something to her?"

"I know we were kidnapped by Shinra when I was a baby," Aerith explained defensively. "But she never told me anything."

The old man gazed at her for a long time, and then he lowered his head and shook it again.

"So she never told you anything, right? How is she?"

"She died when I was eight. Shinra kept us inside a lab until my mother tried to get me out of there. She died then."

"I feared that much," he muttered again. Then he took a key from one of his pockets and handed it to Aerith. "Go to the house next to the weapon shop. There you will find everything you'll need to know."

The girl took the key without a word.

"It's such a shame and a pity," he said aloud as he shook his head. "Ifalna was such a sweet girl. We loved her, Aerith, but we couldn't do anything to prevent what happened. We were afraid, too afraid of them. But it's still a shame what we did, hiding like frightened rabbits… such a shame."

"But, what happened?" the girl asked nervously, feeling her stomach churning. "And what has Professor Gast to do with us?"

"I'm sorry, little girl," the old man said as he got up with effort. "We have been keeping that house as they left it that day, hoping that Ifalna would return some day to her home. We did that out of shame for what happened, and now I'm glad that their daughter could return to her birthplace."

He limped his way back to the table where he had been sitting with the others. All were looking down with somber faces. Aerith got up before any of them could stop her and hurried to those men, still clutching the key she had been given.

"Excuse me," she said when she was at their side, but the men still didn't look at her. "Could you please explain it to me?"

She felt a hand on her shoulder. It was Sephiroth.

"Come," he said. "Let's go to the house."

**xxxxXX-0-XXxxxx**

**End of Chapter 34.**

Ooooooooh… drama! O.O


End file.
